So things didn't go the way you wanted it to be. But is it still you to blame?
How many times do you have to tell yourself that life will never be unfair yet you try to make things right the way you want it to be, the way you think it should be? You try to be happy and yet all the little reasons that make up your little world of happiness can be considered just pure bull?
Dammit.
You can hang yourself if you want to. Seriously.
Today's itinerary started like this: (After 12 MN)
4:16 AM: woke up. stared into space. stared at phone with such pity since it had been crying for a charge.
4:16:45 AM: shed a tear. this is shit. what the heck am i still doing here?
4:18 AM: dozed off to sleep.
6:20 AM: awaken by the sound of a human bullhorn aka the Marius. and a hug. sometimes hugs aren't worth reciprocating anymore. :(
6:45 AM: off to the seaside. somebody drown me.
7:30 AM: wanting so much to go home.
How can I go home if I can't even tell my parents what the heck is going on with me? A week ago I was in high spirits, loving myself and loving cleaning my room once more. Only proof that I am on the road to recovery. Only for me to find out that recovery is pretty much connected to relapse.
How I wish I could crawl into a hole and disappear.
Fail, fail, FAIL.
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