Maybe I really should just end my life.
I mean, what's the point in living anymore?
Silent. Just as I thought. There is no point anymore.
Everyone hates me anyways.
I'm just a piece of trash that is undeserving of love anyways.
So yeah, maybe I do see some sort of worth In my anxiety meds all of the sudden.
So yeah, maybe someone should keep a close eye on me.
So yeah, maybe I won't die today but I will die someday...on my own terms.
YOU ARE READING
Vent book
General FictionMe venting because I get in espresso depresso moods often. Sorry if you actually read this honestly. Imma sad boyo 24/7 oof.
