Natural selection tested me, I missed the curve. A cold, stiff hand dangles me over what I deserve.
I’m bitter and I’m tired of you. Almost four years this has gone on, with you doing nothing but playing with my emotions and manipulating me, making me feel guilty for your actions and your problems. Was this your plan from the beginning? All you do is point out the past, the things you say we’re past, that we’re over, then relate them to the present and future, but god forbid I bring up anything that happened years ago BECAUSE IT’S IN THE PAST.
Now you’re going around telling everyone how horrible I am, how mean I am, how I’m nothing but an asshole. Yeah, because I’m the one that laughed in your face on more than one occasion and shouted “You’re so fucking stupid” and continue laughing.
I’m not the one who constantly brought up exes and compared you to them.
I’m not the one who grossly exaggerated minor things to other people, and flat-out made up shit in order to turn them against you, especially the people you work with.
I never continually brought up small shit that happened years ago and made a huge deal out it.
I never continually ditched plans we made, sometimes for weeks straight, sometimes for the dumbest reasons, such as being afraid to get out of a fucking bathtub.
I never bitched and whined about having to do minor social activities like just going to school because you’re so afraid of what others might possibly think of you.
I never bitched you out for weeks about “ALWAYS WANTING ME TO CHANGE BECAUSE I’M NOT GOOD ENOUGH” when I said you should really quit smoking, because GOD FORBID someone want something positive for you, especially after multiple people you’re close to were diagnosed with lung cancer.
I’m not the one that manipulated and lied by omission just because you were afraid of letting down other people, the same people who treat you like shit.
I never blew one of your coworkers and friends, then lied about it to your face when asked about it “because what was I supposed to say?” how about the fucking truth, for once.
No. You’re the one who did all of this, and more.
You’re the one who made a huge deal about me pursuing my interests, about wanting to go out and do something with my life, about wanting to spend time with my friends, then after throwing a fit about it, tried to guilt-trip me by saying how your life was nothing but room for me, and I was just shutting the door on you.
You’re the one who said it’d always be me, who said that to you it was always me or nobody, then two weeks later exploded on me and decided you were completely done with me.
You’re the one who kept me a secret to pretty much everyone, as if I was something to be ashamed of, as if you were too high and mighty to be known to associate with me. Yet your literal crack whore of a friend is worthy enough to share the limelight of your public friendship.
You’re the one who made a huge ordeal about me going to visit a close friend of mine for two days, yet you had a greasy slimeball piece of shit from Australia fly in for pretty much the sole reason of trying to fuck you. What were your words, if I even had a semblance of a romantic thought towards her, you’d never speak to or see me again? After that I should’ve driven there and banged her that night, because it’s fucking sad when a friend you’ve never met has treated you immensely better than someone you’d once discussed marriage with.
You continually whined about how you were never good at anything, I’d bring up how you were great at your job, how you were smart, etc., and now you’re telling people that I was always putting it and you down and making fun of you. You’re the one that would go on and ON and ON about how you were so dumb and how you only had everyone fooled, how coy and mysterious of you!
Speaking of, you’re the one who said that I never even knew you, and that you knew me better than I know myself. You barely even know me, because most of our conversations were of you trash-talking your coworkers, classmates, friends, or you whining about stupid things that don’t even matter and you could easily improve if only you put a small amount of effort in. I’ve had deeper conversations with my fucking pillowcase.
You said nobody knows the real you, that people just know what you want them to know, what you lie and manipulate and change around so that they like you, and that nobody would like you if they knew the real you, and I’m seeing now that’s probably the truth.
You’re the one whose only defense at the end was that I’m an asshole, and that I should consider that I’m the one in the wrong. No, nobody else has had a problem with me, nobody agrees with you that I’m just this insufferable asshole, you’re just trying to manipulate your way into glory, because god forbid you think you’re wrong.
You’re the one who lied to, twisted, omitted, and manipulated me for almost four years without even the smallest bit of remorse, but never will you do it for even a second more. Go fuck yourself with a diseased dick as you sleep around to make yourself feel loved and close to people, because nobody wants the real you. I can say that with confidence, having been willing to do anything for you at more than one point, and now wanting nothing to do with you.
Nobody wants the real you.
Inspiration lacking motivation, fresh light on a new body, grab the lamp and direct the glow before it inches south. I’m more of a grave than a person, more of a coffin than a body. Flicker, flicker fade, fade and fall away.
All the atoms in the world are rearranged and now air is like water that floods my senses and drowns me without reprieve. Every sigh you speak is a lake of new possibilities. If all I ever did was let you down, why did you ask me to stay? We’re all drowning now. Water, water, water.
Flicker, flicker fade, fade and fall away. You were hope, flowers blooming in the muscles of a dying mouth, then you were gone, water flooding the cracked walls of a brittle old house. A lump in the throat, a shot in the dark, a drive through the night to find fresh light.
You have history, but we had chemistry, and now the flicker of optimism I had is fading fast. You were an example of better things to come, but now I breath deeply and think of other things.
I think that I should just stop caring about really anything or anyone. Every time I try, every time I try to make someone happy, or try to achieve something with someone, it fails. Every time I care too much, I end up getting snubbed.
I end up in Maryland over the summers away from my friends because I was afraid to say no.
I end up in Indiana overnight sleeping in Jed’s car so that a week later the girl I’m there for can cheat on me.
I end up in Pennsylvania over the summer and holidays spending my free time away from my friends and the ones that matter most, sitting cross-legged on a thinly carpeted floor as I’m told I’m loved, but I’m never enough, never enough to make a difference or make anyone happy.
I end up at one friend’s house almost every night surrounded by the people I care about most, only for things to quickly fall apart when they promised they wouldn’t, and now that’s a far off memory and I’m accused of being a thief while literal drug dealers went unmonitored in the very same house.
I end up in Texas spending my vacation in a hotel room while one of my “best friends” feigns illness and interest, and one of her friends who hates me reveals that they were all just using me and it was a huge mistake for me to come.
I end up at Arrowhead lake every night for a stretch of time, sitting on the dock and wondering where everything went wrong, wondering how loud the splash would be if I drove my car into the lake and didn’t get out.
I end up at another friend’s house for the majority of my overall time for a good couple of months, for a short while later to be ditched by his friends who turn him into someone he said he’d never be. Then she likes him.
I end up in Chicago with my brother screaming at me to grow up and not to take two weeks off work to “go on a fucking concert spree” - AKA, him asking me to come stay with him, and me suggesting we could go to one concert, which I paid both our ways for, and him ending the conversation saying I’m the scum of the earth and worthless. He says for me to get my life together and care more about the people that matter, when he’s the one that walked out. He said he’d call more often to check in, it’s been over a mont and he hasn’t called once.
I end up barely sleeping and really eating only when out with friends for about three weeks, aimlessly wandering the track at night and just thinking about how complicated everything is and how I hate it so much. Just thinking about how much I wish it all would end.
you lay awake waiting for your life to start, but you’ve already passed the checkpoint titled “everyone else is in first place and you’re below last.” Nights like tonight keep you awake for more than one reason because you just want peace. Your bones feel mushy and you wanna slump into a pile of laziness and sleep for a month. You measure your days by the company you’ve had and the money you’ve made, but even on days where you make $200 from barely any work, you still feel the brutal sting of loneliness. Everything can and will change in a moment, bipolar hearts are just emotional sharks.
I need to sleep.
Well I was in a car wreck in the parking lot at work, and all I can really think about is “Long live the car crash hearts” BECAUSE I HAVE THREE FALL OUT BOY CONCERTS TO GO TO
If only time passed as quick while you’re working as it does while on break. ~le sigh~
I think I’m starting to relapse, back into the dark down. My days are spent apathetic, simply trying to find things to pass the time with, not necessarily things to do or things to entertain or improve myself with. Even on the usual hangout days, when I’m surrounded by the people I love most, I quickly become bored and disinterested, and I find myself looking forward to things that I can’t necessarily speed up.
The fact is you really can’t depend on some people whatsoever, and that means you gotta try and distance yourself from them and keep yourself solid the best you can, no matter if they’re your best friends or what.
I’m half-remembered half-way around the world.
I’m not sure where my life is going right now. Things are never on track, and in the few moments they are, I’m too busy or apathetic to focus on keeping them on track.
I’m worried I may be headed for a psychological breakdown. It just feels like it, or maybe I’m just paranoid. I don’t even know how to explain it, and even if I did, I probably wouldn’t for fear of sounding crazy.