but what if...

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by hyuniebees

by hyuniebees

I don't know, you guys, I truly don't know if I can even bring myself to write anymore. It seems like a lot of useless effort that I put into chapters of books, and they always turn out awful. I feel like I'm wasting my time doing something I love, but failing at doing it.

For instance, I'm actually thinking about deleting Skinny Love and Fifteen Degrees, because not only do I not watch YouTube that often anymore, but the books themselves don't appeal to me. I feel that even if I try hard enough, I will never be able to acquire the right amount of clarity for my own writing, and without clarity, my words mean nothing.

And for the longest time, I've had to keep my own writing close to me, hoping and praying that I'd be able to give someone my personal thoughts and let them read it, allow them to understand what I keep hidden -- and now that I've done that -- man, my writing is worthless.

Especially now...

I mean, I definitely don't expect for you guys to understand what's happening in my personal life, and I most definitely don't expect for you to give me pity, but my mom has been childish and selfish lately, and since she's gotten back on drugs, she sees to me like I am nothing. With a pounding heart, I told her, over the phone, my thoughts, and her response is silence? I sometimes question the reasoning behind her even having me as her own daughter -- especially when all she ever does is ignore me and do away with my words.

I'm sorry. I just don't like myself at the moment.

However, before I forget, I might just disappear from the world for a little while. Like, completely disappear.

And yes, at times, I indeed do wish that my disappearances were real.

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