I guess life never was that lively after all.
Everything feels so strained and useless.
I drag dulling razors over my skin, just for a taste of existance. Just to fucking feel. I need to know I’m still alive. I’m breathing but decomposing inside. I cannot see any point anymore. Better off taking some asprin and cutting in the bath. Because I’m completely over all this. I’m over blood clots, I’m over this numb base line seeping farther and farther each night, I’m so fucking over all of it.