i hate this life.
i hate no matter where i go, i am still haunted by who i am, i cannot change from this..
i hate myself.
i want to die.
i miss home..
just because my parents didn't give two fucks if i cut my arm open with a razor blade..
i guess its nice to know that they care here..
i just miss it..
i know that sounds weird, but it helped.. it gave me a type of pain that i could control.. it balanced out the emotional with physical.. it made me sadly happy..
each scar has a story, but none are a story worth telling..
not like cocaine or meth or pills. i never did those.
but marijuana, it was perfect.
it was just enough to numb me out to my suicidal tendencies and bring me to a state of relaxed happiness.
why the fuck couldn't everyone just leave me alone?
i was happy.. and they had to take it away..
i guess it was a "bad habit"
i wasn't being stupid.. i just wanted to be normal for once..
i need help.
i have fallen. i have yet to hit bottom, but I'm on my way.
i hate depression.
i can't remember the last time that i didn't want to kill myself.
whats happened to me? why can't i enjoy anything anymore..?
i just put on my fake smile and unhappily live life.
i wish i was dead.