Well, here we are again.
It's 2 am rn and I'm listening to South Park's Lonely Jew on Chirstmas.
where in the fuck has my brain gone
Immortality
(actually in Kenny's POV rather than focusing on him but not peering into his mind)
I can't die.
I can physically die, but I always just wake up in my bed the next morning. I feel pain, but there are no injuries when I open my eyes.
At first I thought I was crazy, so I started keeping a journal. Everday I wrote something, I carried it around with me, hell some of my friends even saw it. Of course they thought I was just writing some kind of book.
The ways I died were always different, I tried not to do the same things that got me killed previous times. I was even wary of eating. Butters once had noticed this, but let it go after we talked for a bit.
I've never told anybody, but I suffer from really bad depression because of this. I dream about it, I think about it all day, I write about it. I've tried to commit suicide more times than you could ever count. Even so, every single time I just wake up back in my bed. It's all just so pointless. I want to live a normal life. I want to grow up, make a family and die happily. One of my biggest fears is that I will never die, and watch all my love ones die over and over again. It seems silly, you'd think I'd be happy with immortal.
Who made up that lie?
How the fuck can you be happy when you get shot repeatedly just to get shot again? How can you be happy when nobody remembers you died?
Bull, fucking, shit.
June 25, 2017.
Today I died from heat exhaustion. The feeling of your entire body being drained of liquid isn't one I'd like to feel again. I'd prefer being shot. Thanks.
-Kenny McCormick
I FEEL STRANGLY ABOUT THIS.
I'M NOT SURE I LIKE IT.
AND I WANT TO MAKE MY CHAPTERS LONGERRRR... I just don't know what to write about. I'm not good at detailing small things, like the journal and Butters being adorable.