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you are good. you'd be good for me. but i'm tired of taking goodness from others. i have nothing to offer, my hands are empty. the only thing i could think to offer, i'd rather not give. it's what got me feeling so bad in the first place.
strong tw for negative mental health . i want to cut off my flesh. if the doctors refuse to do it, maybe i have to take matters into my own hands. i am very close to not caring if i bleed out. maybe i'd rather die than have to continue living this way. this sounds very egg_irl but i assure you this has nothing to do with gender. i know something is wrong with me, i know it. the denial is the worst…
mother, what did you sign me up for. i can't back out now, i still have my whole life ahead of me and i don't know what to do with it. . my heart is lacking, i know that much what do you see that i don't how are you so sure devotion is infectious, i want to feel it the same way you do
she closed her ears and hardened her heart to the truth out of fear that she might have to change her ways and now the truth stares her squarely in the face and she has no choice but to change
i forgot the reason why i hate packed rooms with no place to escape. let me duck away quietly and when i come back, don't question my sullen demeanour and don't tell me it's all in my head and don't say it's fine. they all tell me it's in my head and that it's fine and don't be sad, nothing is wrong. they don't see the signals because they aren't looking for them. i'm on edge all the time, looking…
would you believe a stranger if they recounted your whole life back at you? come, see a man who told me all i ever did. i wish i could look deeper into it. but the truth is, i'm the very model of what not to do. a predictable type of person, embedded in old tomes. i feel seen and understood in the worst kind of way. telling my whole life with his words... as if he knew me... and then he looked…
this is a rare post for me to make. lately i'm seeing a lot of rage bait. and i get it. it generates clicks. i mean, it works on me. i get baited into the rage every time. a part of me even gets excited when i see a bearblog post starting with, "re:". it's just like, oooo what's the drama now? and this isn't just limited to bearblog. i see it on reddit. and snapchat. sometimes on fedi. i don't…
where do i start? where do i end? i know what i'm not. or what i think i'm not. maybe i don't see myself clearly enough. or i see everything, and it's nothing good. i'm ashamed of my nothingness. i am painfully aware of what i'm not and i want to embody that not. i want to become anything that isn't me, whatever that is. become something. something worthwhile. something worth loving. who loves me?…
and i've always known you wouldn't fill it. and i'm trying to jam you in there anyway. and i'm doing a bad job of it. and you... you are blissfully unaware. or at the very least, trying to avert your eyes. but the moment's gone and i hardly ever see you anymore. and i long for you and a million other things and it isn't good for my heart.
i raised my head up and you were looking at me. our eyes immediately locked, and you didn't look away. it was i who turned away first. did i just imagine it? curse the physical distance i deliberately put between you and i. distance makes things hazy and then i can't tell if this is all in my head. i long, sinfully, to send out a more concrete signal. i know the right thing to do is not to chase…