"Is this fun for you? You lucky devil. It just keeps getting better and better, doesn't it? I'm losing my mind. And they want me to beg my parents, who haven't called me, for help. And I won't. And I...I don't want to do this anymore. So the life that I was trying for is over. The life that I had is gone, and I'm feeling so damn sorry for myself that it's difficult to breathe."
I hate you all for not caring. I'm sorry for being a trainwreck. I'm sorry for feeling like I could die right this very moment and it wouldn't fucking matter. And it wouldn't. The world would keep on a'spinning.
I haven't felt like this in a while. And it feels refreshing. Like taking off a costume or a really uncomfortable pair of heels at the end of a long day. Like I can slip into sweats and be me. This is me. Disgusted, pathetic, over-analyzing, hopeless, and helpless.A destruction of a human being. A sad excuse. And no one can hear my cries for help. And they're not subtle either. So I'm starting to think that they can all hear me, they just don't care. And I guess I don't blame them. I'm just disappointed, is all.
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