I'm About To Lock Myself In The Bathroom And Cut. I'm Talking With Z About A. We're Trying To Fucking

How are you supposed to just get up and go to school and go to work and come home and make dinner and fold the laundry and not want to kill yourself the whole fucking time.

when you are very bad for years, people no longer worry.

you become invisible, a ghost.

I can leave now, everyone has forgotten me.

3 months without a response feels like dying.

"when did you become such an ungrateful little urchin." "i did not teach my child to be this cruel to their mother"

i dunno. maybe when I became sick, wanna die on a daily, and started hating you and everyone else

just a possibility

can I really call this crying? when all that happens is my eyes well up with water and only one or two tears fall and they don't even make it far before it stops.

i hate being sick so much

my thoughts when someone says "I love you" is just

ha ha. no, you don't. you just love the idea and perception of me that I have given you. you don't love me.

great im sick.

and it wasn't just a slow build. its like I got hit by a fucking semi today and immediately I'm sick with a ruined throat.

debating to post on my art blog but it's sh art. like, I dunno man, some irl's follow that account.