Cyberpunk
| These vile murmurs don’t cease. They claw mercilessly at the inner recesses of my skull, inflicting a persistent ache that no respite can assuage.
Each dawn, I awake, mechanically ingesting medications that I suspect accelerate my disintegration a cruel irony unnoticed by those entrusted to aid me. To them, my suffering is a trivial game, a mere aberration incompatible with their understanding, born from a curse they deny exists.
| Yet this existence, if it can be called such, transcends life. It is a spectral limbo where time fractures, memories dissolve, and hope is but a distant echo. The curse is not merely the disease but also the indifference the slow erosion of being that persists beyond death’s purported finality.
| I am trapped, a fading remnant caught in an interminable cycle of torment and invisibility, condemned to an afterlife defined by desolation and the relentless echo of voices I can neither silence nor escape.
| u ok, buddy?
| indonesian
| >excerpt from "I was a teenage cyberpsycho"
Refresh
| Mental illness, what a perplexing and disquieting affliction to endure. In the whispered space between spoken words, I perceive the unspoken malice, the veiled wishes for my demise. Yet, I remain immobilized, a captive to these silent hostilities. At night, I find myself inexplicably transported to an open field, where the flicker of distant car lights traces cold paths along a highway I cannot recall and an existence I cannot anchor.