There’s a world of a difference between not wanting to be alive and wanting to die and wanting to kill yourself. I spend my days oscillating between the first two. My heart goes out to those who actually do want to kill themselves. I couldn’t imagine harbouring something that intense every day. There’s something so inherently violent in it, so shocking and silencing.
I don’t really hate myself that much, honestly. I can’t hate myself that much, because I still think I’m better than most everybody else. As much as I find it hard to find a point to my life, I wouldn’t wish to have […]