I’ve both caused harm and been harmed
What was done to me doesn’t matter
What breaks me is what I did to someone else

English is the only language where my real feelings can breathe
I’m lost
I don’t know what I’m doing
I want to know
I want to understand
I don’t want to be who I used to be
I want to change
I want to be better
I want to stop trusting carelessly
I want to stop breaking trust
I want to stop judging
But I don’t know how to become all of that

I’m exhausted
I need to be truly heard and truly understood—
not the illusion of it
I really need someone to listen
This world nauseates me
My own life nauseates me

Living past 18 feels unbearably heavy
I feel like a 100-year-old man who’s lost everything and quietly longs for death
I wish I hadn’t been born into this time
I wish I had never come

My spirit and my mind are destroyed
I truly can’t endure anymore
I hoped that someone at least my family would stand by me during these hard times in my life
But
always
always, always
I’m alone

Many times, because of my mental and emotional struggles, I found the courage to call 112 so someone could save me
But even then, no one did anything

No one has ever understood me
It’s like I’m trash, thrown into a corner,
and everyone who passes by kicks me

Putting all of that aside
I’m looking for something
or maybe it’s better to say, someone
A friend who truly understands me,
and lets me understand them too
That part being allowed to understand them matters a lot
One sided connections are honestly ridiculous......

But it’s too late now
I’ve reached the very end of what I can endure
I’ve come to the end of the road
All I see in front of me is a tall wall
I don’t see a way out

The only thing I feel I can do
is collapse into a corner,
die,
and slowly fall apart

The philosophy behind this place is the same
Azizi’s warm corner
On the surface, it means a warm corner belonging to Azizi
But the real meaning is this:
this is my corner of falling apart
The only place I have
The only thing I have left

The pain I carry started when I was five,
when I was first thrown into society
I kept telling myself, over and over,
This too shall pass
But it didn’t
It grew
More and more.
So when does this pass?

Where exactly is this damn passing everyone talks about?

Damn all those fake, empty hopeful sentences

Nothing is going to pass
It’s only going to get worse and worse,
until it finally leads to death

I tried many times to get rid of myself
From pushing a heated knife into my hand when I was 16,
to trying to throw myself from the fifth floor of a building
But either it didn’t happen because of my bad luck,
or if it was about to happen, they forcibly stopped it
I wish I lived in countries
where I could legally end this life by air injection.

If things keep going like this,
I seriously doubt I’ll make it to twenty

I’m sorry for burdening you with my words first thing in the morning
I wanted to write in Persian,
but unfortunately, because of my childhood,
I can’t really express my emotions well in Persian

And in the end,
goodbye

به روباه میگن شاهدت کیه؟ میگه دممه...

And I can't sleep, the voices in my head, they keep me up