i don’t even know why i bother getting out of bed in the morning. i mean, what’s the point? every new day does nothing but increase the number of days in which my life is shrouded in absolute failure and meaninglessness.
^^^ self-indulgent, whiny dreck ^^^
i don’t know where i’m going, i don’t know what the fuck i’m doing with myself, i can’t stand a single second alone with my own thoughts, i can’t see a way out, i hate everything, i can’t even fucking look at myself in the mirror without having to choke down the disgust.
disgust at…
everything.
most of all, i can’t seem find the right words, for just how fucked up everything is.
