Spiraling
I’m feeling so hopeless and lost rn. A certain something that I thought would help — did happen but I was only at peace for a day or two after it. I saw her getting what she deserved, it was nice and all but what now. I thought it would bring me solace, I thought it would fix my internal turmoil that I’ve been dealing with since the last 3 months.
Im realising this piece of literature is looking more and more like written by someone riddled with depression and hopelessness. But I don’t have the right to be depressed because all of it is my own doing, I could’ve just not let it happen. I could’ve just not let the precursors of this anguish materialise.
Here I am in a pitch black room listening to somber music (shoutout to the strokes, cigarettes after sex and radio head) while I lay on my bed going through an existential crisis. This did not happen this often. This is getting way too frequent — I don’t like it one bit.
I’ve done so many people wrong who genuinely cared about me. I’ve led them on and then left them stranded. Why am I like this? I can’t even blame my childhood. It’s just all me. Maybe I’m a terrible person pretending to be someone else. I’m always longing for a connection that I just can’t seem to find.
I don’t even want to proofread. I should stop being a pussy this is all so embarrassing. Goes completely against the persona I’ve introduced to other people. I hope no one who knows me read this.