I still exist.

So. Like. My other post wasn't good enough. So i guess i'll just type whatever comes to mind.

Disappointing. Being the disappointment. To others. Constantly. Fucked up? Positive on that. Can't sleep at night, can't wake up in the morning. Makeup to be my armor to help win the battle with my eyes. Painting, with my arm as the canvas. Disappointment. Times infinity. Mentally giving up. I can't be alone. That seems to be the worst time. With the thoughts. Bad idea. Bad. Bad. Bad. I'm not okay. But whatever. It'll pass. I'll enjoy the time it leaves. Until it comes again. It's on repeat. Life? Who cares, we're going to die anyway. No. Life is precious because we know we're going to die. I can't comprehend that. Fucked. Fucked. Fucked. I can't say. I can't apologise enough. Yes. Indeed. Truly fucked.

That is all.