You already have such a fulfilling career as a whore.
i don’t remember, like you. i try not to remember, because that’s useless. what’ll it do…reminiscing? make me fell good, remember happy times when things were better? no. it’ll just bite me and bring me back to today, where nothings like before and everything is bitter.
fuck you with all my heart.
two seconds ago i was running my fingertips over the veins in my wrist, feeling them, wishing that i could just bring myself to dragging a blade or a knife across them. turning around, i saw a bottle of pills. why don’t you just go get a glass of water and take ten? it’d be quick. easy. no suffering. and still, i can’t bring myself to do it. i just sit, crying on my bedroom floor with a new mattress i was so excited about behind me, on thanksgiving, memories of happier times in my journal and a song ringing in my ears, reminding me of some things that at one point had made me smile.
i can’t stay here. there’s not one single person i find comfort in. no one brings me solice, and nothing brings me hope. i haven’t been happy in so long. i think i can keep hearing my mom call out my name, but i know its just a provoked thought. im imagining it. my parents don’t show they care. they know im sad, but they don’t realize how much. sometimes, i wish they did. sometimes i wish they could see that their youngest daughter who they never want to leave them—never want to move away— has sat in her room, completely alone, trying to leave for good. i hate being here. i hate having to try so hard, having to be constantly dissapointed in myself and those around me. i hate having to put up with the worst of circumstances. for the past few years, ever since ive become knowledgable about bigger things than just myself, theres been no good. everything bad, everything miserable has overpowered it strongly.
my life is dissapointing. ive got a dad who goes gambling when we finally have some money, and a mom whose too afraid to think for herself. my family is dispersed, with my sisters and my cousins who are the only people i find maximum comfort in to be too far away to hold me and tell me it’ll be okay. from that distance its always awkard. helping someone, holding them and empathizing becomes a lost art form and strange. im so displaced and im so alone. ive got a cousin whose like a brother to me with autism whose ten and still not talking who just moved. god, i love him so much. and his baby sister, who doesn’t know it, but even before her birth has had so much pressure riding on her to support him and be completely okay.
i can’t deal with this. im sorry for breaking to whoever reads this, but its become too hard to keep a brave face. i can’t do this. i cant believe in myself when no one believes in me. i cant want to be here when no one wants me here. i cant keep trying when everyone else has given up, especially when they’ve given up on me.
im sorry. im so sorry.
Nope, she’s not my girlfriend.
But hey Anon, if you think she’s pretty, get iiiiiit.
i hate that moment you realize something bad. its like standing on top of a mountain, enjoying the view, and then realizing you’re somehow tumbling over yourself on a bike with no breaks, unable to stop. unable to save yourself.
if i didn’t have work last night i could’ve talked to ruper grant, daniel radcliffe, emma watson, walked the red carpet got photographed by paparazzi, met alex watson, and seen teh characters that create and fufill my sister’s life. and tonight, if i chose to go i would get to meet the hollowells, matthew hollowell being the lead singer of kings of leon, one of my favorite bands currently.) i love new york. i hate work.
Yeah, that’s a pretty bad feeling huh.” —violentdreams
22. alot of what you said tonight hurt me. it’s harder trusting you now.