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Cliff’s edge

by evianwatre

usually I could write about things. I don’t know who I am, I thought I had hypersomnia but now I can’t sleep, everything is wrong but I can’t scream out. nothing is right, nothing I do is right, i can’t even write things out anymore. I feel weak, my head is completely quiet yet somehow, somewhere isn’t right. All I want is a way out, all I want is to stop being like this. Something isn’t right and I don’t know how or what, I don’t feel safe in myself anymore, I don’t feel settled, I don’t feel alive. This is my best attempt to write something out, nothing I write makes sense. Over and over and over and over again I don’t know what’s with me. I can’t leave, no matter what I do i won’t be able to leave, I need to keep distracting myself, I can’t even stop for one second or else the thoughts please catch up on me, I can’t run from it, I don’t even know what this is.

“Hey, I(look)stayed (at)up until (me)7 again”

“I’ve(look) been (at)miserable (me)lately”

how can anyone make it on themselves? How is it even possible to go on all alone?Look at me, lay an eye on me, tell me that’s I’m still alive.its going to be alright, it’s going to be alright, how is anything going to be alright if I don’t know what’s wrong?i can’t take it, I can’t anymore, even acknowledging that things are real is too much, I can’t run away from feeling alive, I can’t hide from anything, I can’t hide from anyone. a psychotic piece of shit.

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