I just wish people would be upfront like “YEAHHHH I’m gonna be that prick that fucks your entire group over #sorrynotsorry” like dont be that dick who’s like “oh yeah email me okay? like I’ll totally make some kind of contribution to this!” like no. I just wish college would realize group projects are fucking useless and cause us college students to crave death. FUCK.
For once I just wish someone, anyone, would stop and notice me and all I do. Just once. Just one person on this fucking piece of shit rock would stop in front of me and say “Hey, how are you doing today?” and actually listen to my answer. Actually show concern for me. I just wish that there was one second of my life where my luck would stop shitting out on me and someone would pause their own life to maybe make room for mine. I try, okay? I try to help others and whatnot when I can. I make comments all the time, at work, at school, on the fucking Instagram trying to make someones day. I tell people their beautiful, that they are so smart. I tell them jokes to make them laugh and listen when they cry. I let them vent to me and take out their problems on me. It’s okay, I have had shit happen to me in my life before, I can handle it sometimes. I swear, if anyone came up to me needing help, even if I fucking hated them, I think I would try to help them. Even if they fucked me over hard core I would help them. I know I would. But for fucks sake is anyone going to throw me a fucking bone anytime soon? I’m so fucking sick of drowning in silence while giving away every fucking moment of my life to those around me who take take take. Is there any end? Do I ever get my fucking chance? How much longer is life just going to shit on me??? For fucks sake I don’t know if I can live like this much longer. I cant live my life being fucking ignored. Being spit on and fucking used. I can’t. I can’t live like that. It’s not fucking fair. Yet I do for others. I honestly feel at times I would slit my own wrists so others can live off my blood, and I would bleed out before anyone thought to help me. Because that’s all I am to these people in my life. Just someone they can use. It’s fucked up. It’s so fucked up.
oh my god i’m fucking sick of this generation’s mentality that your sadness is beautiful and somebody will fix you and all this fucking john green shit nobody will find you in a bookstore reading bukowski and want to lie with you and nobody will kiss your scars and you will not be like effie and freddie you’ve got to be your own fucking hero and surround yourself with positivity
I feel like I’m not even myself anymore. I feel like I don’t know me. What the hell happened? I wake up and suddenly I’m everyones bitch? People order me around, “friends” use up every ounce of my time and energy, but when I need them, they are otherwise occupied? I miss the old me. I miss the me who knew who I was and what I stood for. Who knew what she wanted and went and got it. The me who would help those who needed me and could walk away from people who tried to use me. But lately I feel like I’ve become too soft. I can’t tell people who use me off anymore. I let people walk all over me. I’m not naive, I know its happening, but I can’t find my voice to tell them to fuck off. I can feel those around me feeding off my happiness, but never returning the favor and giving me some of theirs. I go out of my way, hoping they will do the same but each time I’m met with disappointment. I’ve become too trusting of others. I’ve come to expect people to do the right thing, but hell, they never do. I miss the old me. But I can’t just change back. If only it were that simple. There are too many threads tied to this weak me, holding my head above water. I can’t lie and say if I cut all these threads I’d be able to carry on. There are a few positives to this new me. People seem to like the new me more. I can tell the new me touches more peoples lives in a positive way. But there are too many people who take advantage of this new found gift. Who steal moments of my life I’ll never get back and give me nothing to show for it. Do I shut the door on all completely, become an outcast at my own hand, or do I leave it cracked to what few come as they please, but live with the risk of letting in the wrong people? Does everyone face this much inner turmoil? I feel like the fire in my belly has gone out, and instead has been replaced with an outlet, to which just anyone can plug into and slowly drain what makes me me away. Is it worth this? So I have to ask myself which I fear more; The idea of being alone or the idea of being controlled?
“I love this twee”
“This twee is mah fran”
“Dis twee has a flavour”
“Twee, u no worries, I cleans u.”
"Twee is mah pweshus"