(no subject)
It's a combination of just wanting to be alone. Of knowing that's not happening. That I'll be somewhere scary and that maybe I'm making a mistake Fairness has nothing to do with it. I'm obviously incapable of making even the simplest of decisions in my life. I can't do anything right. I couldn't apply to internships the right way. I can't even talk to my parents. Neither of them. I just hate them so much, all I can do is feed off of their financial supply like a fucking mosquito. I don't deserve a damn dime from them and yet I just keep taking and lying and pulling the wool over everyone's eyes.
There must be something wrong with me. Do most people feel like crying every day? Does anybody else have to fight back tears anytime they drop back into their head? Every day it's a struggle, keeping up appearances, trying to act like everything is find. I don't want to bother anyone, I just want to be alone with my solitude, with my sadness, nurture it like a fucking baby to my breast.
I thought that when I grew up this would go away. The sadness, the isolation, the insecurity. I thought that I'd get friends, a boyfriend, some meaning, one day. These things, I could rely on them and take the burden off myself. One day, I guess, I thought I'd meet someone who really care.
And I don't know. Maybe no one cares. Maybe I'm still alone. Maybe all these words of love and commitment and friendship have just been a lie. With Kate, with Kurt, with Mark, maybe none of this has even been real.
Or maybe it has. Maybe I'm just so fucked I can't even accept it. Maybe all this loneliness has always been in my head and none of it was actuallyr real. Maybe, I guess it's possible, nothing went wrong with my parents or my upbringing. Maybe, possibly, probably, I'm just so fucked up I'll never even really, ever get a chance to be happy for more then a few months or so.
There must be something wrong with me. Do most people feel like crying every day? Does anybody else have to fight back tears anytime they drop back into their head? Every day it's a struggle, keeping up appearances, trying to act like everything is find. I don't want to bother anyone, I just want to be alone with my solitude, with my sadness, nurture it like a fucking baby to my breast.
I thought that when I grew up this would go away. The sadness, the isolation, the insecurity. I thought that I'd get friends, a boyfriend, some meaning, one day. These things, I could rely on them and take the burden off myself. One day, I guess, I thought I'd meet someone who really care.
And I don't know. Maybe no one cares. Maybe I'm still alone. Maybe all these words of love and commitment and friendship have just been a lie. With Kate, with Kurt, with Mark, maybe none of this has even been real.
Or maybe it has. Maybe I'm just so fucked I can't even accept it. Maybe all this loneliness has always been in my head and none of it was actuallyr real. Maybe, I guess it's possible, nothing went wrong with my parents or my upbringing. Maybe, possibly, probably, I'm just so fucked up I'll never even really, ever get a chance to be happy for more then a few months or so.