I waste this much for Drugs.
My Mind is on 100 when I wake up. The Fight/Flight* or rather, get away, love somebody or get lost in People desire is controlling me. I feel addicted, but only when I smoke cigarettes. I do not want this. But, I can not find joy in these People. I miss the People I like, I can not reach them ever. Therapy is hopeless, the strangers, the talks do not satisfy me. The point where I like to stay in a Jail is reached. I would kill if I should. My aches are very hideous, I can not make them out no more, but any doctor I met is unable to this already for a very long time. This is not me I live, this is too surreal.
I think, I am a Dead Project. This Human is made to rot, rotten, rotten more.
4 comments
probably I am made to die before my life even begin.
do the people in your life make you happy? I’m sure they love you and need you around
they try. restrict and are making trials. clandestine and professional.
Ew. Yeah, I get that.