dawn

I think I’ve unloaded my shit, there can’t be much left . I don’t exactly remember,but I think it’s almost All there.

In reality, I don’t speak at all. Which completely explains a diary. I don’t have a pocket full of jokes because you have to interact with people to get jokes.

Bitching is just bitching.

Of the places you’re allowed to bitch and whine, the one that bothers people the least seems appropriate. In my little brain.

I also hate you and want to kill you, but not really.

If you feel embarrassed because of some honesty you’ve expressed,,,,uh,, I don’t know. I don’t see the logic in it, because we’re all going to die and there is no real judgement. Not really.

All in your head, judge yourself but be fair about it. And my problems are not your problems ,the goal is not to unload, just try to make sense and do your best at it.And be real.

I hate my life.

And I don’t want to die in this particular phase.At this particular juvenile level of understanding. I don’t want to die there. And you can and many do.

If anyone chooses to look inside of your mind, remember, that person is a fuh-king pervert for looking inside of your mind. Snake pit it may be.

If I finally give in, and choose medication, I feel like I have to abandon all the things that I actually like. A matter of ” which Hill will you die on?”

Mirror mirror on the wall, who is the most batshit of them all?

Not me.

I’m probably a 6.