Sigh

I said I'd never again apologize for my feelings. So why do I do it? Because of this stupid thing called love. But that's not the reason I'm blogging atm...


I'm done. Totally and completely done. Because I am a fuck-up, and everyone in the world should hate me. I'm not even being dramatic; I have absolutely no redeeming qualities. What's wrong with me? Why can't I just be happy? Why do I hate myself? I thought I was progressing, but here I am about a year after my last suicide attempt wishing that I'd had the balls to go through with it 12 months ago, because I sure as hell don't now. I'm stuck here in the realm of the living. All this crying and purging and depression and cutting... Is this really all my life is? I hate this. I hate life. I hate myself. Whatever, lemme suck it up. I need a damn drink.

Love's Carnival

I hate going to this place... This place where everything is unknown, and scary. And everything's attacking me. Worse. I'm attacking myself. My memories choke me, and they make everything into something dark and sinister. I say it a lot. I feel like an object. I feel as though everyone's watching me. I feel like it's all going to hell. And I'm falling.

No one thinks I'm smart enough, and neither do I.

I'm not pretty. I'm not skinny. Neither of us can deal. But I can't stop shuffling. You think I don't see that the deck is too big. I do. On the back of each card is a spiral that sucks me in. I can't move, just wait for the cards to go spewing every which way. They do. We spin.

You close your eyes, and come along for the ride. When will you decide you've had enough? Can you take it? Babe, it's tough. I should make you get off before it really begins. I'm selfish. I want you here holding my hand. But I have second thoughts. I stand, ready to leave; take us away. But I hesitate, and the ride speeds up. We spin. When will it end? I look down and realize the lever is between my feet. I look up; our eyes meet. Mine sorrowful; yourself topped with defeat. You can't reach it. And I can't bring myself to pull it. So we spin. We spin.

Maybe if I close my eyes, it'll all just go away. Being left with nothing, is that so bad? I deserve much less. Much less than nothing. If I fade into the black, will you notice? But how can I leave? How can I leave you here? You need me to. But I need you.