perishsong
it/she
- Sep 10, 2025
- 32
Not sure if I'm posting in the right place, and I apologize if I didn't.
Naturally, one reason I'm not CTBing is the overwhelming fear of what if I fail, the consequences being far more terrifying than my current existence. But another reason is so stupid that I might as well entertain it while I'm still around.
You know these sorta memoirs for people who pass away? Basically the highlight reel of their achievements, a celebration of their deeds and personality and all, and their significance in the lives of others close to them. You can frequently hear these in true crime podcasts. "So and so volunteered in an outdoor kitchen, worked as a NICU nurse and donated their kidney to their sister" type thing.
Bear with me because it's stupid, but... Given that my CTB could be considered "tragic" (i.e. premature and not "natural"), my then-memoir would be laughably bleak.
"Here lies perishsong. It was a rotting fruit of a predatory tryst between a meth lab criminal and his 20 years younger side chick. Perishsong kinda existed, and it did a thing or two in its short life. RIP".
Maybe it's a thinly veiled scream to do something with my life. Maybe it's my brain's pathetic attempt to increase my SI. But I just needed to get this off my chest.
Naturally, one reason I'm not CTBing is the overwhelming fear of what if I fail, the consequences being far more terrifying than my current existence. But another reason is so stupid that I might as well entertain it while I'm still around.
You know these sorta memoirs for people who pass away? Basically the highlight reel of their achievements, a celebration of their deeds and personality and all, and their significance in the lives of others close to them. You can frequently hear these in true crime podcasts. "So and so volunteered in an outdoor kitchen, worked as a NICU nurse and donated their kidney to their sister" type thing.
Bear with me because it's stupid, but... Given that my CTB could be considered "tragic" (i.e. premature and not "natural"), my then-memoir would be laughably bleak.
"Here lies perishsong. It was a rotting fruit of a predatory tryst between a meth lab criminal and his 20 years younger side chick. Perishsong kinda existed, and it did a thing or two in its short life. RIP".
Maybe it's a thinly veiled scream to do something with my life. Maybe it's my brain's pathetic attempt to increase my SI. But I just needed to get this off my chest.