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THE VOID

✑ a collection of thoughts i can't categorize into anything other than ⭒random bullshit⭒

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• even i treat you better than i do myself
  


• I DONT WANT TO BEG YOU FOR THE BARE MINIMUM
  


• it was raining, but the sun was still shining through the clouds
  it reminds me of how i felt with you


• maybe if im crazy on my own, i wont dissapoint anyone anymore


• you trying to stay with him hurt us more than him leaving ever could


• "ow ow OW! youre crushing my fingers! open the door NOW!"
  you lied, they werent even on the frame
  you just enjoy making me feel guilty
  i dont know why i keep falling for it


• i miss younger me too


• my self-esteem has always been low
  i wish i knew what happenned
  i wish i knew how to fix it


• you have every right to feel that way but you u cannot hold it against me as if i had any choice in the matter, i may have ruined your life but i've also ruined mine


• of course i want you to be happy
  i just wish i could be a part of it


• as a kid, i could always feel there was something different about me
  back then, i thought it was because i was special or destined for success
  turns out, i was wrong


• i dont want to forget, but i just know i will
  i want to shove it all in your face and hold it against you
  you hurt me too much for me to remember without breaking apart


• im tired of forgiving you without ever getting a fucking apology


• do me a favor and learn to shut the fuck up


• so when the releif fades away
  i always convince myself that you hate me


• when did i become a sidekick to my own life


• i cant tell if im making a big deal out of nothing or if im just used to dissapointment


• it was stupid of me to think i could be anything more than my illness


• it's so hard not to hate yourself when you keep making all the wrong decisions


• it used to be so normal for me to keep secrets from everyone. i'd always play with my cards glued to my chest because i was scared. scared of rejection, scared of what ppl thought of me, scared of abandonnment. i don't have anything to hide anymore. i should be releived. but im not. because when you're constantly hiding from ppl for that long, it becomes instinct, reflex, habit. i becomes something you can't seem to get rid of. it becomes your life. so, instead of hiding, you try sharing. logical, right? unfortunately, my brain doesn't work like that. you see, i got so used to hiding every aspect of who i was that when i decided to try and open up to others, the floodgates opened. because with me, there really isn't any balance to acheive. there's either too much or too little, too loud or too quiet, too emotional or too apathetic. all that to say, i don't enjoy telling my secrets. even if my art would be non-existent without them, i still try my hardest to camouflage them with symbolism and cleverly disguised emotions behind meaningless metaphores. i don't always mean to do this. it's just instinct.


• i'm so sick of you acting surprised whenever i question your love for me when you never give me any reason to believe you actually care about me anymore.


• i don't think i'm capable of love


• my spine is made of rubber


• if you keep replacing your broken parts, eventually, you won't be the same person anymore


• i used to regret making you cry. your tears don't have that effect on me anymore.


• "i would never do that to you." yes, you would.


• the thing is, i want them to feel sorry. however childish or selfish that sounds, i want them to finally notice my suffering, to acknowledge the pain i've endured. i want to see them greive and cry over a person they didn't bother to care about. though, ultimately, i'll never get to see it. i've been fighting with myself about the question for years and it still seems to be the biggest struggle i've yet to experience: is it worth it? (it seems the two parts of me will forever be battling each other on the decision)


• i feel guilty for loving you
  i feel guilty for hurting you
  i feel guilty for lying too
  i had to mourn the loss of your love alone
  i hadn't told anyone, i still had hope
  cuz maybe this was all just temporary


• why won't you beleive me? am i wrong?


• i hate how you make me feel. i love how you make me smile.


• i revel in the feeling of hitting rock bottom. the pain being my only constant, i'm not surprised at how i turned out. the familiar cycle of distress to euphoria, suicide attempts to eating disorders, helplessness to ecstasy makes me feel alive in ways others yearn for. yet, i can't help but wonder at how long this life will last. i can't help but wonder if someday i might cut or drink enough that it pushes me over the edge of the very precipice i've been teetering. the adrenaline of pushing the limits to how much my psyche can take is what makes this so terrifying yet so addicting. my mother once told me that i should forgive my father's transgressions because "it's how he was raised" and "he didn't know better". he won't change for you. i'm not oblivious to the patterns of the past, i know that what i am comes from somewhere, that i could break this cycle if i tried, if i wanted to. but, and the end of the day, that's always been the question, hasn't it? do i want to?