My sliding scale of reasons to be depressed verses happy is gradually tipping heavier and heavier towards, you know, fucking suicide. Here's the thing; I'm fucking pathetic.
I want to believe that someone can love me.
However, it has become clearer to me that there must be some obvious reason that I can't see that everyone else can as to why I fucking suck.
Maybe I'll stop talking. I'm half way there. All I ever say are words that spill my guts all over the floor so people can look on in disgust.
But hey, everyone is cruel. And everyone thinks only of themselves. And I'd do anything, anything, anything for the people I care about. And I'd drag my heart around on the carpet.
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