It’s better to do something for the sake of humanity,
than to do it for a profit.
Can’t you just do something to be nice for once
and not be a greedy *******.

Someday,  

I'm going to cry myself to death,

not sleep.

At least say something.
Please don't leave without saying
anything.
It causes me pain that you won't have to
witness.
But don't make me wonder,
Did I do something wrong?

Yesterday's episode drained the life out me.
I felt empty inside.
And now I'm just filling up with sadness.
I don't know what you are trying to achieve with this space thing,
but I never asked for it.
It feels like it is more of an excuse for you not to deal with me.
A way to manipulate me so that you isolate me more
until the point I am so broken that will come crawling back to you.
So you don't have to put in energy,
but so that I keep draining myself until I can't take it anymore.
Till a reach the point of..

It's not worth it anymore.

In the end one needs more courage to live than to **** himself.
A lot of you cared, just not enough, I guess. I just can't eat and I can't sleep. I'm not doing well in terms of being a functional human, you know? There comes a time when you look into the mirror and you realize that what you see is all that you will ever be. And then you accept it. Or you **** yourself. Or you stop looking in mirrors. I waste at least an hour every day lying in bed. Then I waste time pacing. I waste time thinking. I waste time being quiet and not saying anything because I'm afraid I'll stutter. And sometimes you stop and realize-some people are just not meant to be in this world. It's just too much for them. Once upon a time you had no clue why one self would want to even think about killing themselves, and now you know way to close and personally for comfort. Literally. People always ******* ask. Always ask "Why did she do it?"  Twenty aspirin, a little slit alongside the veins of the arm, maybe even a bad half hour standing on a roof: We've all had those. And somewhat more dangerous things, like putting a gun in your mouth. But you put it there, you taste it, it's cold and greasy, your finger is on the trigger, and you find that a whole world lies between this moment and the moment you've been planning, when you'll pull the trigger. That world defeats you. You put the gun back in the drawer. You'll have to find another way.
What was that moment like for her? The moment she lit the match. Had she already tried roofs and guns and aspirins? Or was it just an inspiration? I had an inspiration once. I woke up one morning and I knew that today I had to swallow fifty aspirin. It was my task: my job for the day. I lined them up on my desk and took them one by one, counting. But it's not the same as what she did. I could have stopped, at ten, or at thirty. And I could have done what I did do, which was go onto the street and faint. Fifty aspirin is a lot of aspirin, but going onto the street and fainting is like putting the gun back in the drawer. Ours was different because she just lit the match. Actually, it was only part of myself I wanted to ****: the part that she wanted to **** herself for, that dragged me into the suicide debate and made every window, kitchen implement, and subway station a rehearsal for tragedy. But in all reality..What's the big ******* deal? Lots of amazing people have committed suicide, and they turned out alright. But it was truly ironic, really - you want to die because you can't be bothered to go on living - but then you're expected to get all energetic and move furniture and stand on chairs and hoist ropes and do complicated knots and attach things to other things and kick stools from under you and mess around with hot baths and razor blades and extension cords and electrical appliances and weedkiller. Suicide was a complicated, demanding business, often involving visits to hardware shops. And if you've managed to drag yourself from the bed and go down the road to the garden center or the drug store, by then the worst is over. At that point you might as well just go to work, and I want to tell you about everything but I can't because I couldn't stand for you to have that look on your face all the time like I did. I just need you to look at me and think that I'm normal; that you're normal. I just really need that from you. You should want that from yourself.

Man                                           Woman
He Smiles Curiously                        She Blushes Coyly
He Approaches      Asks her name      She shares it     Asks the Same
Mr Right                              Love at First Sight                    Her Smile is a Delight
"Meet for Drinks?"                            hmmmmmm                      ­­        "Pick me up at 8?"
He knocks - 1 rose.                                vase, water                        Her perfume - sweeter.
Politely, opens car door for her                                The night keeps getting better
At the restaurant                                                      S­­he sips her red wine
Conversation so easy                    She feels she's known him forever
"Would you like to dance?                "I don't dance very well."
"Indulge me, just want u in my arms."    ~Just a smile~
One hand at her waist, one on her back.
They become one, all others disappear.
Peering into each other's eyes.
No words are needed.
Their bodies
say
it.

We all have flaws,it just takes a while to realize them.
Some people will hate your flaws,
I know how that feels.

But if you’re lucky like me,
that’s the reason they love you.
You could have all these flaws,
but they will still love you
because our flaws make us who we are.