or a brief second tonight, i seriously contemplated what it would be like if i did something really horrible.
the thought went away, but it scares me that i thought about it. i don't think i've thought that way since... 8th grade i think.
and now there really isn't anyone i can tell about it. no one fucking gets it.
"your life is perfect! you're not supposed to be sad! go away!"
"you're such a drag. go away."
"ohhhh.. i'm so sorrrryyyy. sniff! sniff! ...go away."
what the fuck ever. i'm me and that's all that matters. every other body can just shrivel up into a pile of dust and i'll keep living
It NEVER has to be good enough for anyone else.
it's just that sometimes i wish at least one other person had faith.