I’ve done a lot since I last checked in (May).
I’ve been on strike since Oct. 17.
I joined the dead dad cub Oct. 3.
I’ve had multiple bylines under Dylyn, made road-trips, memories and dissociated much of 2025 away.
Taking the bad with the good is a change of pace. Normally I fight it. It can’t be sunshine and rainbows all the time, but even when the sun sets, the earth is still beautiful. Sometimes you need the darkness to shine your brightest.
Xoxo, Dylyn
I told myself this would be a place for positivity.
That I’m in my new era and I was going to be positive moving forward, and embrace change and manifest what I want and need.
I lied to myself.
I lied to everyone.
I’m not well. I’m not positive. I’m not manifesting anything but death and destruction.
I don’t want to be here. I feel completely and utterly alone. All I do is work and go home and sit alone. I don’t do anything - I don’t really even watch tv. And anymore? I don’t even want to listen to music.
I’m dead inside. I tear myself apart because I can’t do anything right. I can’t function as an adult, I can’t take care of myself, I can’t show up for others (or myself) and I keep fucking up left and right.
So why am I here? Why am I breathing? I have absolutely zero purpose on this earth.
All I do is make life harder for others or annoy them because I’m a constant fuck up. And it’s all my fault.
Every little bit of it. I did this to myself.
I put myself here.
I have nothing. No one.
Please make it end.
I haven’t had a personal Instagram in a long time.
I figured with hanging up my tassels for the moment, it was time.
Introducing me:
Dylyn Rose 🥀
They / Them
