I hate myself.
And I hate people.
And I hate the fucking world.
Fucking google emphasizes fucking privacy even though I logged out a hundred fucking times and safari still kept my gmail logged in. What the fuck.
I don't know what's wrong with me. But I hate myself. I feel heavy and big. But so fucking small. I want to kill somebody. As if that can somehow stop me from hating myself. I want to kill myself.
I want to die in my depression.
Why am I alive
Who the fuck even cares
I'm a fucking nuisance
I'm a pest
Eradicate me from this world
Destroy me
The world will be better without me
Nobody will miss me
Who'll miss a depressed fucking asshole?
Who'll miss me?
I want to bend my fingers backwards.
I want to cry.
I want to fucking disappear
Tuesday, 8 March 2016
Thursday, 11 February 2016
Chained
I suppose... It shouldn't have ever felt like this.
The deciding moment of a relationship comes when two people engage in physical intercourse, whether it be a kiss or a hug or a simple caress of the cheek. But often, that moment can also come in an emotional touch. Something gentle and sweet, light and beautiful. Both combined could ignite a spark so intense it could set the world on fire.
How did it come to this?
Our relationship... has been built on a foundation of pain. Nothing has ever felt so unnatural, so uncomfortably, so painful. It beckons me deeper into my own hatred, into the side of me I had never wanted to see released ever again. I have become spiteful, angry, loathsome. I have become Kyle. And the thought scares me, to think I'm reliving this entire episode over again. I never wanted to become Kyle again. I never wanted to see him in me. To see that egoistic, arrogant, aggressive side of me.
I never wanted to be this hurt again.
And the worst part could be that despite all my efforts to deny it... My spirit wants to be let loose.
No, not in a suicidal way. I have no intention of dying. Right now. I can't speak for the times we fight and argue. I can't speak for the moments I sink to the ground sobbing into empty air as my own cries echo in the silence of the living room, heard by nobody. But right now, I feel no such desire to end my own life. Only to liberate it.
These chains are... They're attacking me. Not only holding me down, they seem to also be suffocating the very life inside of me, pulling me into submission, dragging me into a state of numb tolerance, of indifferent nothingness. Into an emotionless drone only capable of feeling... lost.
It isn't a question of what happens next, it's a question of who do I want to hurt.
At this point, there are only two paths. One is the road less taken, the road in which I embark on with her, and allow her to constantly stab me and hurt me and drag me down only for me to pull her back up at the cost of my own ego, of my own pride, of my own happiness. The other road, however, hurts her. At the cost of my happiness.
How am I supposed to choose?
I'm too weak.
I am too weak.
I suppose...
It shouldn't have ever felt like this.
The deciding moment of a relationship comes when two people engage in physical intercourse, whether it be a kiss or a hug or a simple caress of the cheek. But often, that moment can also come in an emotional touch. Something gentle and sweet, light and beautiful. Both combined could ignite a spark so intense it could set the world on fire.
How did it come to this?
Our relationship... has been built on a foundation of pain. Nothing has ever felt so unnatural, so uncomfortably, so painful. It beckons me deeper into my own hatred, into the side of me I had never wanted to see released ever again. I have become spiteful, angry, loathsome. I have become Kyle. And the thought scares me, to think I'm reliving this entire episode over again. I never wanted to become Kyle again. I never wanted to see him in me. To see that egoistic, arrogant, aggressive side of me.
I never wanted to be this hurt again.
And the worst part could be that despite all my efforts to deny it... My spirit wants to be let loose.
No, not in a suicidal way. I have no intention of dying. Right now. I can't speak for the times we fight and argue. I can't speak for the moments I sink to the ground sobbing into empty air as my own cries echo in the silence of the living room, heard by nobody. But right now, I feel no such desire to end my own life. Only to liberate it.
These chains are... They're attacking me. Not only holding me down, they seem to also be suffocating the very life inside of me, pulling me into submission, dragging me into a state of numb tolerance, of indifferent nothingness. Into an emotionless drone only capable of feeling... lost.
It isn't a question of what happens next, it's a question of who do I want to hurt.
At this point, there are only two paths. One is the road less taken, the road in which I embark on with her, and allow her to constantly stab me and hurt me and drag me down only for me to pull her back up at the cost of my own ego, of my own pride, of my own happiness. The other road, however, hurts her. At the cost of my happiness.
How am I supposed to choose?
I'm too weak.
I am too weak.
I suppose...
It shouldn't have ever felt like this.
Tuesday, 19 January 2016
Fuck
Waste of my goddamned fucking time.
What have I ever done to deserve this, huh?
Everything I've done, EVERYTHING that I've done, has been a mirror of how you've treated me. You think it's so crazy for me to react this way? You think it's WOW SO FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE that I'm overreacting like this? When you've been doing it to me ALL THIS FUCKING TIME.
I'm pissed off. That's obvious. But maybe what's not obvious is the fact that everything I say, everything I do, is for your comfort. I add little details about what I'm doing so you won't get mad. Like saying I'm studying for the next chapter but quickly adding, I have to do it in advance cause I'm taking fucking notes. Cause that takes me all night. Cause I'm stupid as fuck and if I just read it or take last-minute notes I won't remember shit, not like I'll remember them anyway, but I have to try because my GPA is at a THREE POINT FUCKING SIX. And I kinda want it to remain that way instead of dropping. Cause you and I both know I'm not raising my chemistry grade anytime soon.
How did it even fucking come to this?
I've never been this angry, this volatile, this undoubtedly insane before in my entire life. I've never been so prone to cry in the middle of studying because apparently I've done it wrong. Apparently just me studying makes my girlfriend fucking pissed at me.
WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO
Holy fuck.
You'd rather be dead?
I'd rather be dead.
Maybe then the pain'd be less fucking gut-wrenching.
Maybe then I wouldn't have to believe my girlfriend hates everything I say and do.
What have I ever done to deserve this, huh?
Everything I've done, EVERYTHING that I've done, has been a mirror of how you've treated me. You think it's so crazy for me to react this way? You think it's WOW SO FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE that I'm overreacting like this? When you've been doing it to me ALL THIS FUCKING TIME.
I'm pissed off. That's obvious. But maybe what's not obvious is the fact that everything I say, everything I do, is for your comfort. I add little details about what I'm doing so you won't get mad. Like saying I'm studying for the next chapter but quickly adding, I have to do it in advance cause I'm taking fucking notes. Cause that takes me all night. Cause I'm stupid as fuck and if I just read it or take last-minute notes I won't remember shit, not like I'll remember them anyway, but I have to try because my GPA is at a THREE POINT FUCKING SIX. And I kinda want it to remain that way instead of dropping. Cause you and I both know I'm not raising my chemistry grade anytime soon.
How did it even fucking come to this?
I've never been this angry, this volatile, this undoubtedly insane before in my entire life. I've never been so prone to cry in the middle of studying because apparently I've done it wrong. Apparently just me studying makes my girlfriend fucking pissed at me.
WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO
Holy fuck.
You'd rather be dead?
I'd rather be dead.
Maybe then the pain'd be less fucking gut-wrenching.
Maybe then I wouldn't have to believe my girlfriend hates everything I say and do.
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