Ok

Well, that's it for me. Tumblr, you were good to me for a long time. But uh, I'm done with Tumblr

@the-moon-will-rise This account was the only one I followed. Mainly cuz I knew her for a while. Until I realized that we didn't meet eye to eye. So I got out of there. The friend zone is a cold dark place to be for years at a time. Wish me luck in this life that I hope to survive in for at least 6 more months

Epilogue

I wish I met someone who would look at me the same. Who would see me as I am, and just learn to deal with it for once. Cuz I deal with a lot. And I mean fucking a lot. I'm not trying to bloat to what, like 6 people who follow me? Which is basically all these spam pages for free sex

Besides the point, I just hate on how no one wants to spend the time of day on me. I hate that I put myself out there and change for some people, and get nothing back. Maybe I'm dense or something, but I'd like to think that I'm a good person. I'm not perfect, cuz no one is, but I think I'm decent. I work to make some money so my parents don't have to fork some to me. It instills character I think. But you know what, I work hard, I go to school so I could be something at least important later in my life

I don't know what to do anymore. Like people give me advice saying that it's not my time yet. And that I'll meet someone later. But here's where o don't believe that. The number of girls that have shot me down is an outstanding number. And it just fucking hurts so much to want to be someone else's half in this fucked up world, where instead, they want the fucking asshole who treats them like nothing. Cuz they go back to that fucking idiot everytime. And that's why I won't land anywhere with anyone. Cuz I'm not one of them. I'm me. And no one wants me. So you know what that means?

I am tired of Earth. Tired of being caught in the tangle of their lives

Stupid Bullsh*t

Confession of a Writer

I get writers block all the time, and it fucking sucks. To not be able to write down my ideas and express them in the way they were meant to, is absolutely ridiculous. I like to think I have wonderful ideas, but they fuck up my way of thinking. I can't write about myself, because who doesn't tell their life story a dozen fucking times. I can't write about love, because that's all that's out there. No horror shit, because that's another night of sleep paralysis for me everytime I think of something like that. Somewhere I need to figure out what to write, otherwise I'm gonna blow my fucking brains out. Jesus this sucks everytime it happens. Or maybe it's because my life is in such a fucking debacle that I have no choice but to push away everything I have that's happy or good. My parents fight, my brother is becoming more and more of a fuck up, my one friend that I care for more than anything wouldn't take a fucking hour, hell a fucking minute to open her phone to just talk to me, and help me. Because she talks about her problems, and I'm left to solve them like Sherlock fucking Holmes. And I get nothing in the end. To be honest, it isn't fair. I've done more for her, then she would ever do in a lifetime for me. She's said to me in the past that I mean a lot in her life, but I never really understood how that is. In her heart, she probably means well, but there are times that I highly doubt it. And she'll probably read this and not talk to me for like a really long time. And of course, in the end, that's my fault. I've dealt with these feelings for a long time. It's affected me physically, mentally, emotionally. I've done drugs over this. Drank. It still doesn't help. And I can't die, because she cares if I live or not. But there are times that being with someone isn't an option. Probably because it's me. But IDK anymore. I'm the black sheep out of this entire heard in my life. I cry about this a lot. I'm a 15 year old boy. I shouldn't be crying about this shit. I should be learning about my future, and try new things or something like that. But I can't answer every question that comes up. I once wrote something that my friend valued a lot. "I feel as though each day repeats itself after it ends. Everyday is the same day, for all of time. The only time a new day begins is when something so out of whack happens, that God realized that it should never be repeated. So what this shows is that we should never do the same thing twice. Even if that means falling in love." That's my favorite thing I have ever written on a piece of paper. And I don't think anything else could beat that. I hate it all. All of it. Life. Time. It's done nothing good for me. I should be a emotionless, dull, quiet, cynical, pessimistic human being. But I can't. And I don't think I ever will. I think this is my new favorite. Thanks Olivia