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#screwit
You can tell a lot about someone By the music they listen to I haven't listened to a love song in quite a bit Of time. Not because I don't like them, I like to think I'm not that cynical But I guess taking some punches to the gut from love made me rethink my playlists Constantly hitting skip Until just now Cause it's when you're down that you truly understand lyrics The song? "Try a little tenderness."
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Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 1:08 AM UTC
No Love Songs
I'm done being shamed for being me For not believing in god For being a lesbian For listening to the music that isn't popular For being a female with short hair For being curious For being a feminist For being myself I'm not going to change myself to fit into your standards I'm not going to change the way I think and learn Because you think I ask too many questions and need to keep my nose outta things I'm not going to change the way I believe Because I cannot change that you will not make me I'm not going to change the way I look because of you Because I really enjoy the way I look I'm not going to pretend to like what is popular and in trend Because I don't want to have the exact same interests as everyone around me I am not going to change myself because I'm happy with myself Just because you are not confident in yourself, doesn't mean I can't be I'm done trying to change to make everyone else happy I'm not going to shamed for being me I'm unique and no one change that
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Dec 11, 2016
Dec 11, 2016 at 3:31 PM UTC
Shamed For Being Unique
Actually I crave criticism. I thrive off of it. Please tell me I am wrong or I am terrible. Please tell me to **** myself. Please tell me that I am a fat *** Please tell me that I ruin things. Because then maybe Just maybe I wouldn't feel as insane.
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Jun 4, 2016
Jun 4, 2016 at 2:00 AM UTC
Pls
Shallow breaths, tight chest, blurry vision, No rest. Tied up by my thoughts: make it stop... ‘give it all you’ve got.’ Head spinning, hope dwindling. Skin burning, bones chilling. Drowning in air a sinking ship; dying of thirst, and I don’t get a drip. Surrounded by an ocean and I can’t see anything. I can’t hear for the life of me. **This feeling I swear is killing  me.** Whispering: “give in don’t get up stay home you’re not enough. Even if there’s nothing wrong: walk out the door and harm will come” This ubiquitous feeling draping over me, enveloping everything, wet, and weighted... bet you’ve never hated someone so much you’d stab them in the chest and without a moments rest grab them at the throat so tight they can’t whisper a note and leave them wondering if they’ve even given their best after their whole self feels negated. **This hate,   this punishment  or something, draped over me so viciously is known as: Anxiety.**
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Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 9:26 PM UTC
I Hate Anxiety and Anxiety Hates Me Too.
Sorry I'm a **** up... I just can't help it. I just can't stop it. I tried... I tell my self, "Why do you mess everything up?" "Why do you ruin the only good in your life?" And "Why can't you do it?" I have the blade, I have the note. But what I don't have are the guts. I don't want to hurt anyone; But I ask myself, "Who's there to hurt?" No one, Is the answer. This is all it took. I jumped off, And felt alive. "I'm free." Then I was gone. But i am free to roam the world, Free to see how little I mattered, Free to not care anymore. Free to just be me. So yeah, I'm a **** up. But **** it!
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 9:21 PM UTC
**** up...
Or should I say ride? Should I say rather, burning down the highway far too fast and wishing that maybe just maybe I could find it out there somewhere that was place where I could stop existing. So I push the boundaries push so hard to get through this unreality drugs and ***** and *** or alternatively faith, religion and morality? I've walked both ways the straight and narrow as well as the crooked and wide and NOTHING has ever satisfied the burning need to feel alive. So tell me readers and writers inform me if you please or perhaps sell me something gimme some peyote or holy water anything and everything to explain why in all this self-induced rage He has yet to simply let me die? Because something inside is not of me a two faced fiend with no imagination and a jealous heart looking on the world with scorn and derision, knowing that there is a world out there that I can see but will never be. And apparently no one can teach me what to do can't seem to inform how to simply be seemingly the easiest of acts but some hole in my soul will not allow me to achieve.
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Oct 28, 2014
Oct 28, 2014 at 12:01 AM UTC
Walk This Way