I want to say, its not worth it to be me.
I constantly spend my nights struggling to be happy.
I just dont fucking get why I cant be. Nothing bad has ever happened to me in my life. Nothing. My family loves me, i have a great career, and im somewhat attractive, or at least im told so.
But yet despite these things, id rather live fucked up high off my ass than be sober. Its not worth it to think clearly. Being me in my skin is far from where I want to be right now.
Why wake up. Why wake up.
Love is the only thing I know to keep carrying on, but I know many do not want to love a depressed fuck like me. Thinking im creepy and needy with problems that make me strange.
And who am I? What do I love doing? Rotting in a cage made of plaster and dry wall slowly seeping into a mattress until im some dark stain thats unbearably foul and putrid. Fuck off life.
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