Month: May 2016


I feel like I need to apologize for my suicidal posts tonight. …I’m not suicidal anymore after

Lol….I’ll never try that again. …you’d think twice the LETHAL DOSE would have worked….

That shit cured my itch for suicide…but I still fantasize….

I can hear my heart beat in my ears
I can hear it through these fucking tears
I’m a felon so I have no gun
If I did. …

Or something

I usually don’t cry
But today that’s all I’ve done
I’m tired of living this way
Hasn’t the damage already been done?
Haven’t you already won?
When can I see the sun?
….and be happy about it?
All frolicking, and shit?

I hate having to explain the shit I never explain.

I hate the feeling of always being caught in your disdain.

I hate always feeling pain and having to pretend it’s a migraine. ..

Or something. …

Getting to a point

I don’t like waking up to a mess…a mess whose responsibility to clean is mine.  I hate looking at this shit.

I got up today at 2:00 pm, and washed my dog.  He’s getting a cataract and it’s making me not want to get near him because the thought of him going blind or dying IS SOMETHING I CAN’T FUCKNG DEAL WITH. …but that cloudiness in his eye is there, and I don’t think it’s leaving.

I am usually reticent in naming my illnesses in my blog posts. …but I’m getting to a point where it is do or die….and I’m also at the point where I don’t care which one it is.

Cherry on top

Major depressive disorder is worse than so many chronic illnesses.  I mean,  you can be depressed, but it’s not like this.  I can literally sleep 20 hours a day without any drugs.  It is so hard to get out of bed and on the days I do push myself out of bed, all the while,  telling myself that once I GET UP AND AT EM’, I’ll feel better,  and then I don’t. makes me nauseous on top of everything else.

both, together

I know the things I do and say are contradictory to the way

other people think i should live my life…

and I keep patiently waiting for that one perfect day

when their words don’t dig into me like a carving knife…

I know the deal but I don’t think they do

so they cut me to shreds and lift themselves up on high

I am crucified and they never even knew…

I keep thinking to myself, why?

why don’t they understand the torment?

Why don’t they understand the pain?

Why do they crave dissidence?

Why do they seek to destroy those already maimed?

Does the sight of others in pain give you relief?

Do you get your pants wet observing the grief

of others?

I am really good at retaliating

not very good at masturbating

but I think there are people who do both, together.