innocent looking girls that are secretly kinky as fuck are girls worth living for
Yes, let’s flaut it about how great your life has been without me. Feels amazing. Then get pissed at me for not wanting to explain what has happened while you were gone. If you’d have been here, you’d know. I just can’t handle talking, looking, or being around or to you. All it does is remind me of how you used to look at me, touch me, kiss me, and hurt me. The reasons why we didn’t work, the same reasons I’m lying in my bed right now staring at my medicine cabinet, asking myself the time old question. If tonight is the night. I know it’s not, I know I’m going to wake up tomorrow and have another consecutive shitty day. It’s the fact you act like you can just waltz right back into my life, like you’re still my friend. You lost my friendship.You act like my days are hunky fucking dory. That I don’t wake up with my body in pain, my brain a fog, and my heart torn asunder. It’s people like this Tumblr. People like this. That make people like me, throw away their lives, but I’m not fucking letting you take that from me. I deserve so much more than what you, or your “good life” could ever offer. Maybe we shouldn’t make texts posts about someone who follows you. Even thought that’s what I’m doing, but I know, I fucking know, the truth. The first day Kiel was back, you fucking ran to him, even though you were still with me. He broke your heart how many times now? 2? 3? I bet it’s more. All I did was try to love you, but I was too addicted to drugs and the thrill of doing them to do so. I took you for granted, but that doesn’t give you the fucking right to keep tormenting me. I’m not sorry for what I was, am, or will be. Atleast I never cheated, atleast when I say I love you, it means no matter what. If I say it to you, you can bet ten years down the road I’ll still love you, even if you shit on my heart. I still love you, I’ll always love you, but I’ll never take you back into my life. Not for anything. I’m sorry I’m addicted to drugs, I’m sorry I won’t explain myself, I’m sorry I can’t be your friend. I don’t need friends, I have plenty of them. I need someone to love me, for me. To help me through this trying time, not to berate and scold me for how weak I really am. I can’t undo the things I’ve done, said, or seen, but I can control the triggers that bring up the memories. You act like you’re doing me a favor caring about me, without actually loving me. It’s not a favor it’s a death sentence. I wish you the best, I hope your “good life” is an amazing life. I hope you go far. I really do, but I don’t need someone in my life who treats me this way.
Love is like a narcotic. At first it brings the euphoria of complete surrender. The next day, you want more. You’re not addicted yet, but you like the sensation, and you think you can still control things. You think about the person you love for two minutes, and forget them for three hours. But then you get used to that person, and you begin to be completely dependent on them. Now you think about him for three hours and forget him for two minutes. If he’s not there, you feel like an addict who can’t get a fix. And just as addicts steal and humiliate themselves to get what they need, you’re willing to do anything for love.
Anonymous said: Who do you talk about? The randomly appears in your life?
It’s hard really to say a lot of people have been doing that to me lately. :/
I don’t even understand why I do this? I could live normally and be perfectly fine. Work a dead end job and be a nobody…
Yet, I’m here.
I shouldn’t be here, in this state.
I’m strung out on pills that I need for daily pain. I’m not taking them like I should. They consume me, control me, and in fact they are me. It’s not like I want to be like this. I just have no hope, I don’t care anymore, and who’s stopping me? Well, I should, but I’m broken.
I used to smile, now I just sedate.
I’m broken in so many senses of the word. Physically, financially, and emotionally. My body aches, I’m covered with cuts, and I have no energy. I’ve spent every dime I have aquired. I’ve spent it on pills, plants, and powders. I’ve sold all of my things that had value. It seems like I’m not even a person anymore. Nothing seems the same, fun, love, or hate. It’s all been morphed into the same feeling, like I’m numb.
It’s the feeling of feeling nothing that’s so addictive.
I’m numb in every sense. From the drugs, from the people, and the places. Feeling nothing makes it easy. Which I know it should bother me, but it doesn’t. I guess that’s the reason it’s addictive, because once it takes hold, it changes you. It turns you into clay, to be molded and played with. You will never again hold a shape of your choosing. You are what people, the substances, and environments, do with you, because you just simply, don’t care. I care about other people, things, and places, but not me.
my dad was taking me driving and after i parked i got out and checked then shouted “IM STRAIGHT-well at least my parking job is” and my dad slams his hand onto the dashboard and goes “YOU COULDNT HAVE WAITED UNTIL COLLEGE TO MAKE THAT JOKE NOW I OWE YOUR MOM TEN BUCKS I DIDNT THINK YOU WOULD ADMIT IT YET” so thats the story of how my parents have been betting on when id come out