DIARY OF A PSYCHOPATH BY GANEREL

I went back to school today. Nothing has changed. Same classrooms. Same voices. Same expectations. It's strange how everything can look the same... but feel completely different. I used to try. That's the funny part. I used to raise my hand. Answer questions. Care about getting things right. Now? I just sit there. Watching. It's easier this way. When you stop trying, people stop expecting things from you. And when people stop expecting things from you... they stop being disappointed. She called me again this morning. Not my name. Something else. Something sharper. Something that stays longer than it should. She laughed after saying it, like it was nothing. Like it didn't matter. Maybe to her, it doesn't. I didn't react. That's something I've learned. Reactions give people power. And I'm tired of giving people power over me. During class, the teacher asked me a question. I knew the answer. I just didn't say it. "Why are you so quiet these days?" she asked. I shrugged. That's my new language. Shrugging. Nodding. Silence. It works better than words. Words only get twisted anyway. I noticed something today. People don't actually care about you. They care about the version of you that makes them comfortable. The moment you stop being that person- they start asking questions. Not because they're worried... but because you've become inconvenient. I wore black today. It felt right. No attention. No expectations. Just... invisible. There's a girl in my class. She dropped her books. Everyone ignored her. For a second, I almost did the same. But I didn't. I helped her. She smiled at me like I had done something kind. Something good. That's when I realized something. I don't do things because I feel them. I do them because I understand them. There's a difference. When I got home, she was there again. Talking. Correcting. Comparing. Always comparing. I stood there and listened. Like always. But something felt different. Not pain. Not anger. Just... distance. It's like her words are getting weaker. Or maybe- I'm just getting used to them. I don't think I'm becoming stronger. I think I'm becoming something else. Something quieter. Something harder to reach. And maybe... that's not a bad thing.