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clusterfuck

this is the first time in a very long time that i’ve felt okay.*

you know how long i’ve been chasing after you and there was no better way to end this era than a note passed on a phone, a sick smile, missed eye contact, slip away into the night. to never be spoken to again. i thought i could never be happy without you, but i realize you were what was holding me back. i’m not happy, but i’m content. i’ve never felt this before, (i’ve never felt more grey) like i’m somehow lighter. things flow better. i’m still slipping into this year’s depression, but its not as bad as it used to be. i’m hoping it stays this way. i really don’t want to live the rest of my life the way its been going.

things i like: everything that reminds me there is life beyond you and this godforsaken high school.

i hate that you’re better at writing than me. no matter how many compliments are showered over me, i will always feel inferior to you. i hope that someday i forget about you. hope eventually all my pictures of you are washed down the drain. this is final. like maybe one of us is in the ground, six feet under. thats the kind of final i want / feel ?. its late, i’m tired, the white lines slip under my car, my speedometer learns what exponential growth is, and god, i find there’s high beams flashing at me but i just don’t care that i’m driving into oncoming traffic. i love how final death is. you thought i’d come running back to you, you were even counting on it. i feel that i’m a hamster running on the same godforsaken wheel in my head, maybe i’ve twisted the story up, i don’t know where i got lost, what’s remembered and what’s forgotten. i just don’t give a shit. i’fe never been happier.

i don’t know what’s come over me. tonight i’m filled with far too many emotions. i feel like a cracked up bucket that can’t even hold water any more and the shit of life is still being placed in it and ugly brown sludge shoots out from this ugly cracked home depot bucket. tonight, maybe not, maybe all day, my brain has been running at 90mph. no breaks. (or brakes.) no proper way to slow down. i can mute it with music, its not enough to mute it. god, i just want silence. peace. predictability. the space to lay down and take a deep breath. or two. or three. or however long it takes to calm down. i want to lay down in bed and never get up again. i want to be nothing but tv static for the rest of existence, or some lights on someone’s ghost tracker bullshit. let it be known that i am happier than i’ve ever been, let it be known that i feel like nothing more than a ghost. just floating though the motions of day to day life, and the moment i feel like i’m something sorta living, i’m—

*i just got back from slitting my wrists, after i punched the wall and realized what i really wanted was pain. didn't do enough to make a mess, just enough for me to regret it the next day with every wrong move of my shirt.

i’ve stopped giving a shit of how long its been since i last did it. its not a nightly occurrence anymore. just enough to,,,,, i don’t know. just enough. maybe to maintain the scars. i wish i could stop feeling like i didn’t do it good enough when the scars fade. like i didn’t hurt enough, even though my skin may never be even again.

its the ultimate distraction, notice how i’m not overstimulated anymore? just focused on the sting, finding the time to buy a black crewneck sweater before work tomorrow. i can’t stand the staring.