mhm, i am sleepy, mhm, i should go to sleep but i do not wish the nightmares upon me again, mhm. i should see a psychiatrist, mhm, but i’m ashamed of this being my third, mhm, and even though i know my own solutions are only temporary, i’d still like to try again, mhm.
i wish i could write this in another script, mhm, but it’s shameful that i don’t know how, mhm. i could fool myself with promises, glimpses, of the future (again), mhm, but it’s shameful that i want to rely on theoretics, mhm. trying to keep a rhythm going is easy, mhm, but trying to find words to keep it is harder, mhm. it is shameful that this is more than my third post on a comfort corner, mhm, and it is shameful that i want to rely on a website being my escape, mhm.
don’t want to be a toxic person, mhm, but i guess i really have no choice, mhm. found out that my issue could be genetic, mhm, but i guess i don’t want to actually know, mhm. it is shameful to admit i’d rather be kept in the dark, mhm, but then again it’s shameful to wish for the light, mhm. i want to live in this world, mhm, but i should really keep quiet, mhm. This world is not for me.
want to stop using personal statements, mhm, i’ll make a point more if i put my humanity second to it, mhm. i suppose you wouldn’t know what i’m talking about, mhm, but i suppose you’ll never read this anyway, mhm.
your unconditional love for me was just empty words, and it’s best that you learn the difference between love and lust before next time, mhm.
i wish to be unlovable in my current state, mhm, and it’s best you stop using me to hurt yourself, mhm. my many faces do not smile at you, mhm, but i guess that only ignites the thrill inside of you, mhm.
today was a vile day, mhm, and you made me retch, mhm. when i tell you, in drooly tears and in poor spirits, mhm, that i feel like the world is crushing me, mhm, the best thing to do is to not give me a crushing hug, mhm.
please learn to recognise, mhm, that what is best for you is not best for me, mhm. leave me alone, mhm, and heed my wishes for myself, mhm. tell me how to live again, mhm, and i’ll make sure i’ll never live again, mhm.
truthfully, mhm, i am jealous, mhm. you ask me who mike pence is, mhm, and you give me the power to sway your views, mhm.
i truly hate to bring age into this, but you’re two years older than me yet act two years younger. Surely you know that some people do not agree with you, with your views? Surely you can understand that everybody is different, right?
I pity you because you do not know what life is like, but I envy you for the same reason. Your biggest concern is your crush finding out you like her (your exact term was ‘in love’) and it fuels me with vile jealousy. You joined me at the climate march to miss school, and didn’t listen to anything that was said. When I saw you the week after, you were distraught because your friends had a fight which you’re not even involved in. I am so jealous of your simple mind, yet I would rather die (exaggeration) than be you. Why? Why! Why!
Even though I just spoke some cruel things about you, if any harm were to come upon you, it would eat me alive. Please, please, if you find this, somehow, know that all my words are empty. Their meaning is hidden for I do not know myself. Everything I say is empty, although you may of spent enough time around me to figure that out for yourself. How can I give simple words simple meanings if I have no meaning myself? How can I give simple words simple meanings if I have no meaning myself! How can I give simple words simple meanings if I have no meaning myself!
I am jealous, and I know this because my eyebrows are furrowed. Yet I feel no jealousy? I feel no anger, no hate? I feel nothing? My words are, again, empty. spare them no thought, mhm, for thought is just another empty medium, mhm.
voglio a viva voglio a viva voglio a viva voglio a viva
i meet you on a stolen dream in a stolen world
it does not last long, but it is enough
mhm
you are my everything and my more
and that fact eats me alive every day
mhm
get out of my head
will stop using chicken smoothie as a crutch for my bad habits soon enough,
but that’s just another empty promise. i feel no remorse. i do not feel anything at all. i don’t think i have for 4 years. i should see a psychiatrist. this is only temporary.