 |  toomuchallthetime: I feel hopeless, you know how they say “they only love you when it’s beneficial?” We’ll that’s the exact pitch in this problematic stress that I’m going through. Anytime I have money disregard what I want I buy my mother smokes and give her it all knowing she needs it more, every cent I manage to make, she talks to me, she sucks up too me, she’s nice and can engage in a conversation and then when I’m left with knowing she’s back to the slut she is always yelling at me for shit, raving on and throwing tantrums. I’m sick of being used. I’m sick of this feelings like I’m only worth something when I can give toomuchallthetime: I don’t understand sobriety, the feelings you drown uprise and your thoughts are back the ones you managed to block out. You feel bad again, hurting, scaring on the inside ripping yourself apart every time you have to act on appearances. I’m dying and there’s nothing left to revive me at least nothing sober. I’m starving, for influence, intoxication. Drown out the reality of the world and replace it with the prettiest smiles, clearest eyes, purest laughs. toomuchallthetime: The alcohol makes me numb to the sadness, I feel invincible, happy, weightless, like nothing can hurt me, like my thoughts are completely gone, I can make out the happiness I see and the rest of the world is blury.
toomuchallthetime: It’s so fucking cruel how happy he makes me. I’d do anything to be with him go anywhere for him, I hate when he leaves and I hate that I think I love him. toomuchallthetime: I've realised exactly that everything is to a certain point. I'm terrified of what comes next but I'm fearful more of letting myself consume to what happens if I don't do what needs to be done. I have to force myself to accept this. There's nothing brave about this for I'm not faking these things aren't controlling me. I'm vulnerable and open. toomuchallthetime: Begging you to stay is hard, harder then I Let it seem to be. I’ve never begged anyone to stay because I know in the end there always going to leave. I’ve learned to cope with it but when it comes to you it’s natural and heartbreaking all at the same time. toomuchallthetime: poisoned mind, relapsed eyes, high and okay stuck between numb and feelings in a mellow place. Losing my “piece” I had a seizure and threw up, I was crying but not too much, had more cones and I feel like I might actually be okay but this is just a temporary place. toomuchallthetime: I feel it in the numb nothingness, I feel empty and out of consciousness. It’s like everything I want to feel is buried and I can hear everything I want to say but it’s postponed and replaced with small talk. I’m so exhausted from all this shit I fake. I can’t feel myself, sort of like I’m gone but a bystander to watch everything. I need a break to breathe and be by myself so that I can cry and scream and nobody has to witness it, but I don’t think I have the strength to keep pushing everyone away because I’m so sick of being the reason everyone leaves. toomuchallthetime: Jewellery strung, necklace ropes, killing yourself with the smile you hold. Wanting to die every time you laugh, anxiety obsessing wether anyone knows, can they hear the swallowed tears in your tone? Does anyone notice the sleeves, Trying to talk yourself out. Like no one notices anything but feeling like everything is standing out. Paint myself in the pain I can control to let out the feeling inside that won’t ever let go. toomuchallthetime: Stress relief, panicking, blood overflow, feeling every sting ignite adrenaline through your body. I wish this shit wasn’t temporary. Happy pills to take the blades place, to take away every screaming siren in my head but what if I don’t want to? What if the pills block out my thoughts, not only the draining ones, what if they drown me in emptiness. I’m done with feeling everything so much, but I can’t stand to be numb again. Like a void nothing can fill, is it easier to smile or just let all of everything go? toomuchallthetime: I feel like I can’t breath, there’s no oxygen just self hate. I fantasise about dying like relief, maybe nothing is ever going to be okay again, because maybe I destroyed myself maybe my mind is completely gone. Maybe I’m going insane. Is anyone even happy? Or are we all just faking it. Maybe we’re all sad. Maybe that’s why we die of old age because living forever is unbearable. |
Broken things~ are a beautiful mass of destruction,
They can be fixed and covered but the scars and bruises will always be buried underneath and it’s unforgettable even if it’s unrecognisable.
The scariest part is you can love something that’s broken but once it’s completely utterly shattered to a certain point it can’t be anything but broken, useless a waste of the memory a waste of the time. ~Like the mirrors on my walls I guess people are the same.