My life is basically a series of unfortunate events. I don’t think I’m good enough for anyone because i’m always comparing myself to people. I obviously can’t hold any friendships. I’m preserved, but if I let you in, you will have my all. I don’t talk to people first often. So if I talk to you first, I must really care. I like to write. That’s how I express myself. Music is my escape.
Lately, I’ve been really depressed. I try to imagine a brighter day, better circumstances, and a place where everything goes my way. I’m more realistic than imaginative.
I have so many regrets. Of all sorts. So I block a lot of things out. All the pain, and emotion. I try not to show any of it. Not even to myself. Because sometimes not feeling is the only way you can survive.
I have a very short tempter. And i’m very stubborn. Which, when put together obviously isn’t the best combination.
I’ve been hurt. Time and time again. And you’d think by now I should know increasingly better about myself and who I should love but I don’t. I give my heart to the wrong people and I get attached so easily. If you have me, don’t leave me. Because I won’t leave you. Ever. I don’t ever stop loving anyone I’ve ever cared for. In any way. And I don’t use love loosely. As everyone seems to.
I lose friends because of
a lack of care for a lot of people, an ability to alienate people to the point where I barely have any friends. And no conscience.