No like seriously what jlihjhbjyh the **** is wrong with me. See that? That beautiful little key smash? I misspelled something and then proceeded to ******* aosdklfjaksetiovarkjgozlscrmfkajzhulfkj, aZDk,avjz.zdkf,zvjukfjcufck happened again but because I got mad that it wasn't loading faster so I'll ******* type later or something *******.

Edit: I'm sorry. I'm sort of hanging by fragile strings, and I think that I'm going to end up really ******' something up because I just can't ******' do this, y'know? Every little thing ****** me off. And I know for a fact that no one is going to get exactly how I feel, which just frustrates me. It also makes me happy, because as long as no one knows how this feels, they won't feel this pain, I wouldn't wish it upon anyone. I wish I'd just do it already, **** myself and ****. I don't know why I haven't, maybe I'm just hopeful that MAYBE ******' MAYBE it'll get better. MAYBE I'll learn **** better, and get over everything better and ******' survive and ****, I'll like. IDK. Be better one day maybe. BUT ISN'T THAT *******? Is anyone really gonna ever ******' be better? EVER? I doubt it. we're all ****** up, and there's really no fixing it. If I don't ******' hurry and **** my ****** self someone else needs to do it. ******' shoot me, please. Carve these ****** arms and legs, this stomach, this chest, these ******* eyes need to come out, c u t m e. If I scream, take out my tongue, I deserve this. I deserve these feelings, don't I? Why would I have them if I didn't deserve them, where the **** is my ******* serotonin. I hate it here. I ******', well hell. WHAT THE **** IS WRONG WITH ME.

I'm a little upset that this isn't very long. Nowhere as long as the others, and a  huge part of me is worried that I'm losing motivation and words and that I'll be repetitive, so all I have is this last thing, and then maybe I'll never really write again.

just kidding, I have something in my drafts that I've been working on.
I'm just ******.

I don't like being touched but I think I want to be hugged right now if that makes sense?

But don't touch me, I don't want to be touched. I really don't. I want to just.. ******'. I don't know.

I want to be talked to, yknow?

But at the same time, I'm not gonna ******' open up about ****.

I mostly just want to talk to my girlfriend, but now I've got it in my head that all I ever do is talk about myself, which makes me ******, but now that I have to talk or else I might actually just ******* end it- it's a bit ****** y'know? I don't know what the **** I'm doing.

edit part two: Jesus **** she ******* hates me doesn't she, I should shut up I should never ever ever talk I should never talk shut up shut up holy **** I really hurt her don't I
she's been hurt so ******* much why
why do I have to make it worse for her
I swear I love her I swear I love her
I swear I do.
I'm so ******.
I'm the toxic one.
IT'S ME.
IT'S ME.
IT'S ME.
IT'S ME.
IT'S ME.
IT'S ME.
IT'S ME.
IT'S ME.
IT'S ME.
IT'S ME.
IT'S ME.
IT'S ME.

it's always been me.


I'm so sorry. I'm going to work on it. I'll carve my issues from my skin until you love me again. I can be worthy of your love I promise.

uncommon grows normal
routine with procedure
getaways, paradise, heaven
bare, void, blank
air occupies what was
take afoot inside
think comfort, warmth
ignited with flames
books of wisdom
books of happy
books of reflection
raveled with devouring famine
scorching heat searing
the leather casing
the thin sheets
the purpose of it all
all that's left
crumbled cracking at the seams
indistinguisable at corners
words left legible
smack dab middle
with colors reminiscent
pouring white milk
into black coffee
only this time
an odor intoxicating as gasoline

A dream, a crave, a love engraved
A desire, a fire, a vision so dazed
Every thought, so fleeting, only this held tight
Every tear, such failure, for this i fight
Such pain, still settling, that road was rough
Such anger, ****** up, passion is never enough

Why was I made to exist? To merely experience life through sorrowful eyes.

I drown so deep, I question all my feelings and try to make excuses as to why I feel a certain way.
Certain ways I don’t even understand.
If I was made to bring a revolution and change perception, then why should I **** myself just by doing so?
So empty and hollow, the wall has enclosed.
If I was born to be misunderstood, why is it so easy for me to understand and accept everyone else, even those who discredit me.

The voices in my twisted mind. Who are they? Are they real? Is it my intuition? Or is it intuition turned into nerve aching anxiety.
Writhing inside of me, eating every part of my disillusioned sanity.
If I seize to exist to help those who put me down and call me crazy, then why is it worth it?

If I could hang myself right now tight around the neck where I might snap my spine... why would it matter?
I’ve accepted being alone, being lonely is now contentment. Peace.
Drained by others negativity, pulling me down like strings by their problems.
If I was meant to show my true form, why is it that I live in different facades.
Questioning who I am every single ****** day.

I hear people constantly talk about me, in my mind.
Is it intuition? Or mere delusion.

I’m dead. Empty. My purpose in life is to physically die so I can finally go back to where I came from. Other dimensions where I truly belong.

Disentanglement, I lose myself in fear.