Watches others suffer, but can’t feel the pain being endured. I’ve suppressed mine so fucking deep for so long that I’ve become psychologically numb. I know if I were to express my mental disfunction, I’ll let every bit of me be consumed. I realize that if I relapse again, I’ll never be able to get myself out. I’ll remain in the 6ft under hole I’ve created, being comforted by emotional and physical self infliction. The addictive gratification that comes with self mutilation, is too hard to resist once started again. So I’ll pretend to keep my head above water, just as I do every single goddamn day. I’ll keep smiling. I’ll keep laughing. Because there’s not much else I can portray any longer.
“Simplicity, patience, compassion. These three are your greatest treasures. Simple in actions and thoughts, you return to the source of being. Patient with both friends and enemies, you accord with the way things are. Compassionate toward yourself, you reconcile all beings in the world.”
Never in my life will I want or care to get married. I like the thought of being with someone, but that doesn’t obligate us to share the same last name. Regardless if there’s a ring on my finger, nothing hurts worse than separation. I guess it doesn’t really matter, I don’t plan on living past age 39 any way.
“You’re like the ocean. Pretty enough on the surface, but dive down into your depths, you’ll find beauty most people never see. Lucky me. I fell in, headfirst.”—Burned by Ellen Hopkins (via winter-haze)