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Nothing is better yet nothing worse. I still despise my presence, my being, my existence. Everything I do makes it worse, wether it’s taking another selfish breath or speaking my mind. “I don’t know” has become my answer to everything simply because I refuse to think, because thinking only leads to hurt and hurt only leads to feeling and I can’t afford to feel anything as it will only end in ache and perhaps exposure of my true self. I’m once again left with no one. For a brief moment when I was dying I had the world at my feet, people acting as though they cared, as though they were concerned. Now everyone thinks I’m fine and I’m as empty as ever. I fail to present affection or effort in anything because I want them to think I don’t feel anything. Because I don’t want to feel anything, I don’t want to worry, simply I just do not want to be. I have not one true friend. I’ve abandoned myself and everyday is so long, and the days, they just keep coming and it never ends. Never, ever ends.
Posted 9 months ago and has 0 notes