Why must I continue to obsess over where I went wrong and what I could’ve had.
How am I the monster for only telling you the truth, that’s more than you’ve ever done for me.
Why must I be the one who immortalizes all of your not-so-carefully chosen words, while you live care free on another one of your love trips?
What I’m not crying you fucking pussy, you’re the pussy! I hate you! Get out of my room! God I’m so alone..
You’ll know the wounds have healed when your able to watch it bleed and not feel a thing.
A scar which justifies the means to an end~
Khai dreams and references to cloudy days won’t be the only thing keeping me up tonight. The thought that you never loved me in the first place is a hard one to come to terms with. In the end you only wanted me to turn out bad like the others so you could move on and start again without facing reproductions. Always bring that poisonous queen atop a castle constructed of misfortune and unruly depositions. Times are rough and graves will be trampled on over the course of genocides, the important thing to remember is none of that matters in the state of cold, isolated, confinement that I shall subject myself to in order to regain control over my surroundings and mentally ground myself to the simplest pleasures to ignore the very nature of my many anxieties. I’m just a human, and a person at that, though I’m just a human, let’s leave it at that.
Add another to the long list of crazy ex lovers, I suppose that’s just what you always did best. Write it off as a tragedy and move on. What a classic little sob story I’ve got going for myself here.
Today is the day that marks it all. The lies, the distrust, and an undeniable lust for affection all leading up to that single moment. I am no longer needed and no longer wanted. She has finally moved on for good, the very thing I’ve been so deathly scared of for the past 4 years. I find myself shaking, violently, and uncontrollably. Is this the point where I end it? I ask myself for at least the thousandth time. Now what good would that do but prove her right? I find myself living in a dilemma, I have all the ingredients to form a nearly broken tough human being who has suffered too many tragedies in his childhood. Alongside a burning hatred for all that has wronged him and a will to act on for the fucking last time. I am overly filled with my anger for so many cowardice people who have hidden their true selves from me for as long as I can’t remember. Yet also with sadness having known how much we have lost in the act of departing from one another. She never truly cared and I think that’s what I’ve been struggling with this whole time, I’ve always tried to convince myself that maybe someone just someone out there would actually be a decent human with no underlying factors or ulterior motives. I think what I’ve really been coming to terms with is that person doesn’t exist, and I don’t think they ever really will. I need to accept that humans, naturally, will take. They will take, and steal, and pillage, and rape but above all, they do not care. And truly that is what needs to be understood from this all. So after all that I’ve been through; the drama, emotional termoil, being lead on, and used for what I can do and not who I am. I feel calm knowing that I’m the one with all the knives in my back.
Life is a vast set of meticulously placed ones and zeros, programmed for the exact purpous of deriving you from any form of free thinking or individual thoughts. It’s set up to make you believe it’s some kind of sorry attempt to help you in some way; but more often than not it turns out to be the exact repetitive, overbearing, meaningless trash you expected it to be in the first place. But oh of course it’s always about the experience and the lesson behind every action and circumstance but it’s just fucking tiring at this point, being lied to over and over again while being force fed seratonin from some unseen force in the back of my mind. Maybe I’m crazy delusional, maybe I’m just being rational. Who cares at this point? The worlds gonna end in a month.
Unpopular, unwanted, unheard of. The perfect little dream just for me. I live kinda as a ground flower; really just a wall flower but it grew on the ground so it gets stepped on quite a bit.
I’m tired of getting beat up and knocked down constantly and having to pull myself back only to keep getting knocked down and bruised, everything aches and no one cares enough to notice, I keep trying to drain out my bad thoughts and move on but everything still leaves a mark the moment it makes contact with my skin, god I need to talk to my therapist, I need some sort of approval or appreciation in my life because it seems like I’m just going on my own way while everyone looks onward at me in disgust, and it’s hard to pull away from that anxiety because part of my will always know it’s true. I need more friends to talk to but anyone whom I get the chance to do so is extremely toxic and I begin to wonder if I’ve just hit rock bottom and run out of resources. I’m so gone