Where do I start.
Lately, I've been a bit down. My relationships with my friends, loved ones, and family have been extra confining and tense. The constant pressure of censoring my confrontational words is ******** with my head. The strain of insomnia is wearing me ragged and god, I don't know how to make it stop.
I just want to sit at this desk and shrivel up. I feel vulnerable right now, nothing but flaws, layer after layer. I just don't feel like talking to anyone even though I know that's what'll make me better. I should go to sleep, but everytime I close my eyes sleep eludes me.
I'm probably just being a little teenage girl right about now and will regret posting this later. But hell, what's it to me? It's just a vain, shallow, pile of words that I feel compelled to write, and I refuse to write it down in a private journal. At least this way, I have some semblance of not bottling everything inside.
Matt
Lately, I've been a bit down. My relationships with my friends, loved ones, and family have been extra confining and tense. The constant pressure of censoring my confrontational words is ******** with my head. The strain of insomnia is wearing me ragged and god, I don't know how to make it stop.
I just want to sit at this desk and shrivel up. I feel vulnerable right now, nothing but flaws, layer after layer. I just don't feel like talking to anyone even though I know that's what'll make me better. I should go to sleep, but everytime I close my eyes sleep eludes me.
I'm probably just being a little teenage girl right about now and will regret posting this later. But hell, what's it to me? It's just a vain, shallow, pile of words that I feel compelled to write, and I refuse to write it down in a private journal. At least this way, I have some semblance of not bottling everything inside.
Matt
