Someone's Dying in the Back
Alright, I know that I am totally against medication, but you know what…. If something really truly helps with depression, I fucking need it. I can’t shake that down feeling and its really getting to me. I mean, my only goals in life are to own my own home and be happy. THAT’S IT. I have no real goals to look back on and fall short on. If those are two simple goals, why is it so fucking hard? And this depression has leaked and spoiled many aspects of my life… or maybe it’s living in California. But I was sitting there and the most absurd question came across my lips, ‘Do you think that I am ugly?’ and I fucking felt sick, 1. Because what does it matter if you are beautiful on the outside, 2. I already had the answer decided in my head, and it wasn’t yes. And 3. I really fucking cared. When did I get this vain? Seriously?
For a long time I was happy. I think it’s the air out here, its contagious. You know, the need to be beautiful, or to be beautiful and completely unfulfilled and unhappy. I can’t stand it.
Would it be neat to have a good job, probably not because it will someday just be the same repetition. And you know what true Hell is, don’t you?????
For a long time I was happy. I think it’s the air out here, its contagious. You know, the need to be beautiful, or to be beautiful and completely unfulfilled and unhappy. I can’t stand it.
Would it be neat to have a good job, probably not because it will someday just be the same repetition. And you know what true Hell is, don’t you?????