(no subject)
Every day the same thing goes on, I think, and I think, and I just can't get things out of my head. I sit here in my room, and the pain of living becomes unbearable. If it were not for the fact that it would bother the people around me I wish I could just scream at the top of my lungs sometimes. But instead I just sit, and watch, and think, and think, and think. The thinking only gets worse, it never makes me happy, it can not make me happy. Yet I can never stop it.
My stomach hurts.
My stomach hurts.