my dad told me that I spend too much time crying and that im not trying hard enough to be happy
sure dad, i choose to cry for hours a day. like its a choice.
this is why i can’t fucking stand him
because it will always be my fault
so i told him i was going to splash hot coffee on his face
and to fuck off
i tell him i think about jumping in front of the train every time it pulls up because i hate my commute, spending every waking hour on homework, the militarized state of boston, my school, my lack of confidence and my inability to recover from these duldrums
and yet he still says this shit
who the fuck am i even living for
my piece of shit dysfunctional family that i still somehow feel obligated to?
im certainly not living for me
its been too long and i’ve had enough
I wonder every day why there aren’t mass suicides in the street, this world is so miserable, this country is irreparable, and the prospects for somebody in of my age are dismal.
either im the most sensitive person in the world, or, i’ve been handed the short end of the stick in almost every situation in life
i didn’t choose to fucking be here, i wished none of this upon myself, and i wish every day that i wasn’t born so that I didn’t have to constantly feel guilty about wanting to take my own life.
all i want is an end to this, and its my fucking body, so when will doing away with yourself become an accepted thing?
This world is too overpopulated anyway. The amount of negativity i will spew into this world while i remain living is going to damage so many people, I feel like the only way I could make a positive impact on the world is if i leave it.
let me leave it, and my body can nourish a sappling. That thought is the most beautiful, perfect thing to me, and may allow me to leave this world with a happy last moment
Me trying to finish something important on time: