Like you can read, I’m fucking appalled.
By life, by this whole stupid fucking thing. I am so incredibly angry, I feel furious. There’s fire running through my veins, pumping through my limbs. My heart is literally spewing it out, all the heat and fire, the rage inside of me is real and it’s eating me alive.
My brain is just as bad. It hurts from thinking and doubting and not knowing anything. There are no certainties in life, not apart from dying. FUCK.
I’m so done with living. This sounds so cliché it hurts, but oh well it’s the truth. I’ve been crying and rocking myself back and forth. It’s pathetic how desperate I am for comfort and release. Harming the fuck out of myself feels like such a good idea rn.
I fucking hate my fucking life so fucking much I can’t stop putting fucking everywhere.
3 comments
I fucking feel you bruv. Sounds like a bit of an existential crisis mixed with flavors of depression and death anxiety. Fucking lovely combo that is.
It is, isn’t it? Great fucking life this is.
I understand that urge to harm yourself, it’s like a release, once you do it you just feel instantly better after a painful cry. Did it recently myself. It was like a weight lifted off my shoulders, until the next day.