(no subject)
i don't like wriing. unless it's art. online especially. but i'm going to explode. and i can't talk to anyone about anything. at all.
and i've got enough in my system to where i can do whatever the fuck i want and feel no remorse.
speaking of want. there's a lot that i want. and i can't have it. rather, i don't know what i can have. and i don't know if i want what i can have. or what i can't have.
i'm crying myself to sleep a lot. but not out loud. inside.
its ok though. its all ok though.
as long as no hammers are thrown into my geaars, i'm fine.
please stay like you are for me. please pay the same amount of attention to me no matter what. please understand that there is so much more than what comes out of my mouth or brain.
that's all i'm saying. no clarifications, no rebuttals.