You don't have permission to post in this thread.
It's getting worse. This feeling of no rest. No breaks. I just want to cry.
Something feels.... wrong.
I don't know what it is.
The clothes I wear. My hair. Me.
Might just be.
Night is chased away by nightmares. I wake each hour more displeased than before. My self loathing is intense.
No. Of course not. Of course things wouldn't be okay.
Fuck nothing I do is good enougg.
My feet. They're pounding. [B Sighs and slumps over.] Working is... work. Pfbbt.
Not that you care, but I hope you're doing okay...
I guess that's all I've got to say.
Things are nice.
I guess. Meh. >~>
Just waiting for it all to be ruined tomorrow.
Nothing like a shit job to tell you that you're not worth anything.
I'm not worth anything at all.
No matter how much I want you to care for me... it won't happen will it?
I think about the slick trail dripping down my arm.
No matter how hard I cry for help no one will come.
That's the way I really shpuld go out.
A tree that falls when no one is around to hear it makes no sound.
I will make no sound.
I had a dream you found a reason to hate me. That your fears told you to.
It hurt, but I didn't want to upset you more and fight to make you see I'm not total crap.
I'm glad it was a dream.
I still have some protecting to do for you.
I just need to see you.
This day has been such crap.
Come be a brat to me. Please.
I couldn't sleep. I couldn't think. Didn't know right from wrong, what my reality was. I don't know. It was dreadful. You were there, cursing me. Again. I just want you out. States away and you fuck with my head still.
I'm not happy am I?
I'll never be happy.
I'm not a happy person. No matter how much I want to be. I can't. Can't change who I am. Change into who I want to be.
Hey, Eileen, your suicidal tendencies are showing again.
I guess... [https://youtu.be/vnpcnhEsWiU You are the one.]
It's disgusting and it makes me want to burn my skin. Makes me want to be out of my skin. Strangle myself. It make me want to see the colors my body can make after I beat it. These thoughts, they are terrorizing. They're horrid. It's a vinyl record that's disturbed and scratching static. You hear the melody but all I hear is the static growing louder.
[B He's just like him.] It says.
You're too scared to do all this over.
No one can love you... can they?
Not when you don't let them in.
He reads you like a book and yet you still don't think he is different.
Why are you sick to your stomach?
Why are you so sad?
Why are you alive?
Should've died in my bed that night.
No one cares... I don't care.
Of course no one does....
It is starting to feel like nothing is okay.
I don't want to be around it. I don't like it.
These feelings, these thoughts, they're familiar.
And it makes me sick.
All posts are either in parody or to be taken as literature. This is a roleplay site. Sexual content is forbidden.