Simply hurt

 I have come to realize just how lonely I’ve become. There is no one aside from you which ultimately is stupidity in a bottle. 
If it is that I’m so worried about losing you I should’ve come up with a contingency plan but somehow I haven’t. I’ll just fall and be. That’s all.

I’m back in a really bad space that I feel I just don’t want to come out of anymore. It truly is pointless to have a good moment and then just get trashed down to utter shite. (Yep the “e” was intentional”)

I am really alone. There is no one out there for me who is willing to fight for me when they hear that there is crap talk coming at me, they instead go quiet. No one stops the punches coming at me when my back is turned and they see what’s about to come. There is no one.

I’ve got you but that has become pointless. I have you but I have two you’s and two me’s.

One which is us and one that is work and nothing else. 

I am really alone. My dad keeps saying shit. He keeps bringing up this authority which pisses the living crapiola out of me. But I can’t do jack. The more I say something the more he says I mustn’t be like Islam who doesn’t want to be challenged.

I don’t want to be at home. I hate being at home. Its the worst place on earth. I’m not in a good space when I come from here, when I leave from here the mere thought of it pisses me off completely and then I need to calm down, I need to breathe, not the one jumping at me, not the one talking utter palaver, not the one punching the wind out of my lungs, no. 

It’s just me.

It never stops in my life. Somehow I feel that today was a substitute for tomorrow. 

I want to leave. I never want to come back to this ever. But it keeps happening. I’m sick of it but I can do nothing. Because I am me. And I am nice. And I’m a psycho female, and I’m a walk over, and I’m just that chic that people can just like their shit on because I’m that chair or object in everyone’s room with laundry on it. 

So yes. I’m just that chic


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