Do you ever feel like you like people more than they like you because I feel that way in every avenue of my life
Snitch, I'm tumbin'.
Your identity is superficial. Without your body, friends, and clothes, you don’t know who the fuck you are. Suddenly. Then you realize you’ve been living your life for all the wrong reasons. Chasing all the wrong goals. Becoming the person no one wants to be. So shut the fuck up and grow up a little.
Everyone is so fucking annoying. How hard is it to think before you speak?
My sadness is a curse. Always coming back to haunt me—reminding me that it still lurks in the back of my head.
This happiness I’ve created for myself isn’t real. It’s purely based off of the happiness of others. But that’s not that bad I guess.
I can’t help but think that I’m was meant to die alone. But I’m okay with that.