It's the end of freshman year.
I'm single.
I work.
My life still *****.
My dad hates me.
He hates me.
She hates me.
I've lost many of my friends.
I still don't have a car.
I'm sixteen.
I'm failing history.
I actually cleaned my room.
I've gained weight.
I still want to die.
I still cry about Him.
My legs are fat.
I'm fat.
I can't trust anyone.
**** the world.
I hate love.
What is love?
It's always my fault.
Why do my parents hate me?
Why aren't I perfect?
I remember all my mistakes.
I'm a mistake.
Aren't we all mistakes?
I hate my life.
I'm not responsible.
I'm stupid.
I'm short.
I have 25 bucks.
I should go buy a candy bar.
But I will become even more fat.
Never mind.
Will starving myself help?
That's so gay.
I will become famous.
After I get rid of my depression.
Why doesn't He love me anymore?
Because I'm a *****.
It's so beautiful outside.
So I'll stay locked away in my room.
Not like I have anyone to hang out with.
Why doesn't deodorant work?
I sweat to much.
My family is ****** up.
That includes me.
Is my heart even beating?
Or am I dead?
Nope, unfortunately.



These are some of many things my depressed mind thinks.