motions

I feel like I could stop living and it would be okay. I fuckin hate myself. Man, I feel like I hate myself more than I ever feel proud of anything I am, and when I don't hate myself, I'm fuckin avoiding the fact that I can't accept my flaws. There are so many "I's" in this...but it all starts inside. Right? People used to say that, but what happened to why we even said that in the first place? Man it must be the motions. Going through them. I hate the fuckin motions. I could list out all my failures. And I cannot be satisfied. What the fuck...damn. Just. Need. To. Stop. Breathing.

Welcome to my destructive self. Bet you didn't know. Well fuck it. Because nothing will ever be as perfect as it was in your head, and sometimes you miss some things because you choose to only pay attention to illusions...well fuck that shit. I'm fuckin tired of thinking all the time and having to hear all my goddamn thoughts, and I'm fuckin done with fuckin smoking out, I can't fuckin take it anymore. I'm a prisoner of my own fuckin mind, it's making me crazy. Fuckin, this whole life feels like a bad trip right now. The heat is stifling. And June is supposed to be my favorite month. I hate June. I hate. The only love in me goes to some hope for forgiveness for feeling this way and for failing so damn much.

Don't read it.