I sit and crack my knuckles. I get on with what I have to do for the day. My heart I'd heavy and my eyelids and slipping slowly.3 hours. 3 hours or more. That's what I need no over 5. That's too much. Too much and not enough helping others. I can always be replaced remember? I can always be shoved to the side and replaced. And then after that all I can think about is much healthier and more stable the other one is. I keep pushing. Wrote another chapter. Draw another piece. Send another message. Play another Game. The timer runs out and my head falls down and i slam my fist on the desk. Tears rupture through my eyelids as what I thought was a social life but is now a burden. I don't have anything to show. I don't have anyone happy with what I'm doing. I'm not happy with what I'm doing. I look around the dark room in efforts to save myself from the clock placed on how long it will take me to rip my soul from myself. Rope or knife. Doesn't matter. Nothing around me that's positive. Nothing Good. I dig through the box underneath me of everything I had wronged before. I start pulling things out and writing and drawing about them. Who can tell my story better then I can. Manipulative. Clingy. Mad. Annoying. Loud. And just like everyone else.
"If I'm not supposed to care about peoples opinions, then why should I take yours. Or mine. Or the person helpings. Its all just a gamble. A gamble for my safety. And a gamble for my sanity."
YOU ARE READING
My Thoughts
De TodoI write about what i think about, alot i wont publish some Will show up and disappear some never will
