Eons ago

It's been a while.

Many things had happened in my life.

Why do I find it hard to type out my feelings now a days?

Is it because I know that even if someone has read it, they wouldn't care at all?

Because I've always been like this.

And it annoys people.

Like why can't I just get over it, get over life.

Many people out there are suffering more then me, dealing bigger demons than mine.

But i'm here, fortunate and alive.

Yet i'm whining and bitching about how miserable my life is.

I'm annoying yeah.

I found out what I'm most afraid of.

Maybe I knew it all along,

I just didn't want to admit that i'm afraid of it I guess.

I don't know what is the point of writing all this shit down.

It doesn't even make me feel better,

just makes me more aware how shit and how weak I am.

By the way, I met three people I'm really grateful about.

They may not have know but by them being my friend is already helping me out a lot.

The words of encouragement they say, when they tell me they understand me,

it really makes me feel less alone.

Thank you.

I broke my promise that day, I hurt myself.

No it wasn't deep, but no i didn't feel better either.

Who cares anyway yeah.

Fuck the world, and fuck people who tell me they care.

Because fuck you, you do not care about me.

Stop lying to me.