First thing that comes to mind is that this isn’t very manly.
Writing a journal. Logging my thoughts of complaint because I’m not strong enough to bury them away from my mind. At the end of the day, however, I feel I should do it anyway.
The man who lives in my house and pays the rent and utilities. He doesn’t talk to me, he hates me. People at school? They don’t really talk to me, I look too weird. Which makes them hate me? I don’t now.
Talking to the walls, into my pillow, under my breath, none of it really has any effect. The other day, I noticed that I’ve turned a whispered “just wanna die,” into my sigh. I’m just doing it reflexively now.
I need to do something because I care about my life. I want to be happy.
This is something.
These are journal entries from the protagonist of the comic book Aegis Omega. If you’re not familiar with the story, I invite you to change that and read up on it: