if i don’t talk to myself who will
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@piukadaavis
if i don’t talk to myself who will

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choice to be happy.
yeah. choice.
choice to take some pills that help to stay sane.
I wouldn’t call it happiness tho.
they said happiness is a choice.
they forgot to mention that I’ll have to choose the poison which will supposedly take me closer to
happiness.
With picking another job I’ve kinda gotten back to spot where having social life is impossible. But that’s my decision, so impossible turns to unwanted. Why unwanted? Because it tires me like nothing else.
I’d love to be wanted, to be needed, to be missed. Who wouldn’t, because that’s how we are raised and that’s how society has programmed us - to feel like having a partner is a necessity. And I had someone, but life doesn’t do as we’d want. And I couldn’t be that person who’s hurting someone else. Nobody deserves that. But I should be sleeping, because if I’m working 70 hours a week, sleep is only way how I spend my time living and I do not think then.
And i could scroll years ago and I wanted the same, to run away, to escape. I’m fucking bad at communicating, while I’m longing for relationship, love, sex, someone else. This looks to be only thing I’m unable to fix, but well, as I say, like 40 more years to go, so will see how it goes

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Breathe in. Breathe out.
It’s very easy to lose it all. I know.
It’s never easy to rebuild it. But brick by brick. Slowly.
Leave those thoughts behind.
Leave all things behind.
Leave them behind.
Rewind it to where you left off. Resume from there.
Brick by brick. Wall by wall.
It’s not easy. But it’s doable.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Brick by brick.
From unsteady, to invulnerable.
Walls will help.
Brick by brick.
We will get it back.
There is no need for safe place, if it’s safe inside.
Brick by brick.
I can.
And I will.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
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I am the sole reason behind both my happiness and sadness. I know. It’s just not that easy in practice. If it would be so easy to just stop doing things that throw me back down. To not think thoughts which do that. Wouldn’t it be easy?
I am the source of my happiness. I know it. I have done it before. I’ve held onto it. But now I’ve let it go. Maybe because I, as much as anyone, needed that bandaid. Or those stitches. Whatever you call it. But maybe I just fell for it because I didn’t control myself. It would be easy to live if I could explain everything. If only to myself.
If only it would be possible not to destroy all good things in head, before they actually happen. I’d love if I could apply this to all that’s bad. Like, I shouldn’t be depressed. And it’s done. Is it my fault? Maybe it’s nobody’s fault. Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be. Or maybe it’s not supposed to be. But when you break, you turn to the dark side.
Nah. I’ll be good. Im good. Brick by brick. I will be in control. I will stop overthinking. I can and I will.
Just...
give me time.
This is not going to be another depressing post
I say to myself and proceed to go on. I wouldn’t call them depressing, if anyone asks. They are my thoughts, so I think they are realistic from my point of view. And how I feel in certain moment. Yes. Undeniably, I do have bunch of mental issues, like, well, what not. But I mean, isn’t my feelings valid, because they are mine? So, who exactly decided that they have to be labeled as depressing? Who labels my feelings and why is it necessary? So someone makes more money? Whatever, but really, that’s no fun.
I would love to turn back to good old days, when there were no job, no bills, no shit like that. I mean, middle school is a ffin paradise, now that we look back at it. Even better before that. When you could just sit in fountain in your underwear because it’s hot outside. Like, the childish amusement about everything. Because amazed, because that pigeon is running between chairs. Because that butterfly is flying. When did all turn so bland and grey and, like, what the fuck. I mean, look at me, I’m your casual average human being at age of 22, definitely not the worst looking person, not the stupidest person, I had dreams and hopes, just like the next guy, yet here I am. How the f did this happen. Depresso, socially disabled, so-sorry-for-myself in this bs pitty building those torn down walls. Like, I don’t want this crap. I DID NOT FUCKIN SIGN UP FOR THIS. how to stop it.
Like, that’s bullshit. I don’t give anything about what they say. I broke because of what I think. It’s ffin irony. I’ve been everstrong for whatever comes at me, but the biggest enemy comes from inside.
don’t worry world. I just pick up my head, brick by brick, rebuild what I need to keep on going and we are just going to roll for some more here. I wouldn’t mind seeing exit signs in around 25years or so, but if there’s a point to it, perhaps till all 70 could do. Suck it up. Get tough. Suck it up. Keep moving forward. That’s what we gon do. Suck it up. Get tough.

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Me, watching a random movies:
-“So, what’s your name?”
-“Emily”
...triggered.
“Your feelings are valid simply because you feel them.”
— something lovely my therapist said (via heureun)
Took me a long time to try learn how not to put my happiness in people or things. Living on attempt that I could be independently happy.
Bitter like gin. Or Campari. Both of them together. Or seperate.
Bitter.

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Maybe I’ve just stopped fighting for bullshit that isn’t mine.
2&1/2 years later im back on this quote
I don't know what it is with females
But I'm not too good at that shit
However, it doesn’t cancel the fact that I’ve gone full polar asshole. Gandhi take the wheel, bro.