I'm not going to pretend I've got a lot to lose. But I got more than myself to prove. Just got into a habit of expecting the worse. I burned bridges, slit my wrist and put myself in ditches. But still manage to put my friendships six feet into the dirt. They don't want me at my worst maybe they don't get to see me at my best. I'm a put my happiness to a rest. I know I'm not the greatest to be around especially when I'm just ******* depressed. But my past and stories stay with me. I was not okay and drunk while saying shut impulsively. Am I mad or bipolar. The ***** the difference? I still want to burn the world, my world..... maybe things will chill in the end.