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The same circus every time, I had a somewhat great day. Nothing bad happened to me, everything that was supposed to go well, went well. Here I am with the void in my chest and tightness at the same thing. I know I’ll be okay in the morning, I always am okay the morning after. It sucks how rough the night is, I know that when I do wake up I won’t remember any of it, like the night was just a dream, but it is scary, what if I do wake up and I still feel the same way, start my day with such a cloud over my head
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It’s weird how everyone hating you when you’re nine years old still affects your self esteem when you’re 26 like yeah nobody came to my birthday party but that was like 17 years ago why is it stopping me from going to a gay bar
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“understand that there is a beast in you, that can drink till it is sick, but cannot drink till it is satiated” (some smart ass)
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hey i made up my mind, I’m definitely going to break the promise i made a while back. I also will let you read my tumblr, maybe I’ll send you a text letting you know this exists. Maybe even a link directly, I love kissing you, but I love your laugh more and once you leave I won’t be able to hear it for a while. Imma miss that, uhm yeah I also don’t quite understand why I’m writing this down if all I’m doing is trying but failing miserably to apologize for being such a douche. You’re beside me right now but somehow i feel like this is the furthest we’ve ever been from each other, everything i said today was odd, maybe it’s an off day for us?
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i opened the drawer, and took every pill i saw. I’ve been told taking medicine with anything but water can be detrimental. I guess that’s why I drank juice with them. I went to sleep afterward, yet your call woke me up. Now I’ll never find out if I would have died or woken up within a few hours, but those pills took a huge toll on me
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yeah we tried, and shit man. It didn’t workout, you did nothing wrong it’s just shitty circumstances i guess. I’m sorry I couldn’t have been what you needed dork
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it’s funny how we don’t get much of a say in when we’re born, or any say at all. We’re just plucked out of the womb and told to live life to the fullest but to be careful, because we’re always being monitored and judged. Maybe I didn’t get a say when I was born, but I’ll definitely get a say in the day I die. I definitely am picking when and how I die.
Maybe this is my equivalent of the tapes, I think I’m writing this all down so maybe you can all understand me a little bit better, I doubt much of these posts make much sense anyway. I know I’m extremely confusing, so to whoever is reading this, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t ask for help, sorry that I wasn’t enough, that I couldn’t be better. Maybe if I asked for help, or reached out everything would have been different, but I see the way everyone instantly gets uncomfortable when I mention suicide. Don’t blame yourself, don’t let anyone blame themselves. This is a decision I made on my own, no one contributed to my death, it was inevitable, and no one would’ve been able to change my mind.
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How can I hate you and not hate myself at the same time. We are the same person, I am a product of your trauma. You broke me down and molded me into the person I am today. How can I hate you when I am you, all your flaws, all your mistakes, all your faults. I am them too. We both commit the same transgressions, we both wreaked the same havoc, I blame you, and you blamed your father. Will my son blame me the same way I blamed you? Will I hurt him the same way you hurt me? Because that’s how life works, Doesn’t it?
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Sara Teasdale, from The Collected Poems of Sara Teasdale; "From The Sea,"
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the robot finds out it is a robot ─ by judas h. inspired by this poll. image id in alt
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Damn, maybe someday i’ll let you read this. That’s why I’m writing it, or maybe I’m only able to write it because I know you won’t ever read it. You’re tge reason, youre why I ended everything I had going on with them. As soon as I felt myself catch feelings, I lost interest in them, I’m there now, I’m waiting on you to catch up with me, or maybe your story has a different ending than what I’m holding out hope for
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I’d change everything about myself for you, that’s not to say that I think you’re too good for me, cause I know you’ll never agree with that, yet I believe that’s super true. I hate it, how you’re the exception to my every rule. How you love me, I hate how you love me, cause it’s not the way I want you to love me. That fucker telling you you’re hot made me feel odd, I don’t know if it’s cause he said something that I’m too scared to say, or maybe cause you’ll give him a shot before you give me one. I don’t want you, I’m scared of wanting you. Your friendship means the world to me idiot, I’m not ready to risk that just yet. I hope I never do
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you just said bet, you got absolutely no idea how happy that makes me💪
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I get off on the power, I enjoy the abuse cycle, what does that make me? A villain? Maybe it does. I don’t even bother pretending to be misunderstood, I wear my wickedness like a badge of honor, at least then people can’t shame me for it.
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