It's funny how much you can get away with by pretending. It's funny how completely opposite you can really be from the way others perceive you as. It's funny how no one can really know how badly your entire body and chest hurt all of the time. No one knows or suspects otherwise or can even fathom the idea.
I just want to crawl up and die. I need to disappear. Maybe then, everything would be expunged clean and it'll be as if none of this ever existed or happened. Am I really being dramatic? Or is it something of another culmination all on its own? I don't even understand why I am just this fucked up. I can't bear to do this bedlam anymore and sooner or later I will have blocked and pushed everybody out and away- then there won't be anyone left. To be honest, to be blatantly truthful and utterly earnest- I'm fucking falling too deep into this violent and destructive path of an abysmal black hole and I don't think I will ever be able to get out. And that scares me.
Spotlight
- mynameisjane
- hi, with warning. i am entirely damaged and crazy with masochistic tendencies and an addictive self-destructive personality. but i am in the trials of self-recovery- though thoroughly failing in the process, here's to hoping- one day- someday. in form of pure tried articulation of the written word, this space keeps the highly erratic and darkly emotional self reflection of my contemplative life with bits of sunshine scattered in between. i am a mess; i absolutely create disasters and inevitably fuck everything up. so decide if you are one who actually thinks and chooses for his own mind or one who is fated to predestined cowardice, forever running away like the rest of the narrow minded sheep in this world and unable to embrace the violent and bittersweet storm of harsh realness.
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