I am in a very sour mood right now.

I am frustrated.

Boys fucking kill me. It always turns out like this. The same old story. It's so redundant it's comical.

Maybe I'm jumping the gun a little here, but I have a feeling the punchline still has the same idea. The same vicious black hole cycle.

He's so incredible. I thought it wouldn't get any better, but it did.

For a split second, anyway.

Why do I even bother trying anymore?

The longing makes me insane sometimes. It's the itch I can't reach. It's the hair in my eye. It's the invisible force pushing me further into the muck.

God. Burn. Burning me...

I have a feeling I'll be emotionally numb by the time I'm 25.

Fuck y'all.

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