Self Esteamed

‘People don’t like me, I know they don’t, I don’t know why, maybe I’m an asshole, maybe I’m too weird, maybe they see the self loathing, maybe it’s everything. Some people like me, at least till I screw it up and then they don’t. Family is family but doesn’t mean they like me, I know they don’t

There’s an emptiness inside that seemingly consumes me, a sort of mental cancer, malignant in its very nature. Sometimes I think it would be better to self destruct or just let life let me by because self destruction takes effort, I don’t have the energy for being that aggressive. Lots of sleep seems inevitable as there’s little point in being awake, bodily functions to take care of, liquid to consume… nothing else, no food, no meds, nothing. Nothing.’

Next: Communication
Previous: The Ebb Of The Soul


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