#meantome

#meantome

Look at her! The the Hunchback of the town. With her bulges in the back. She doesn’t fit her 42 sized jeans anymore.

Look at this stupid old fuck asking « how old do you think I look? » when people been calling you ma’am since you were 16. Old. That’s how you look. Old enough to have kids but no one that’d stick around long enough to help you raise them.

You couldn’t either. You’re so wrecked inside it’s like a monster that’d create even more monster. I hope you’ll never get to give birth. Making this body as useless as your damn self.

Don’t cry. Don’t you dare run than shower and cry. You’re enough of a waste.

I don’t know why I’ve been hating myself so much lately. Idk who done this to me. I don’t remember if I used to be like this all the time or if it was this bad. But these thoughts written out loud above are really how I’ve been feeling lately. And I can’t chase them away. I can’t escape my own mind and sitting down with these thoughts to channel them seems impossible. It’s like a battle against myself that I can never win. I’d beat myself up if I could.

Why do I want to die so much? What’s with this will to disappear? What about the people that actually care and love me? I could never give them their love back. Not until I made peace with myself. A peace that was broken idk how to begin with …

Therapies could never heal me. Mirrors and positive self talk could never heal me. Music comforted me some nights but could never cure this sickness underneath my bones. Why am I so mean to myself ? I only got my own crouched back.

It’s that time of the year where I just want to push everyone away but I don’t want to face the load of questions of «  what’s going on where you’ve been »

I want to cut strings that feels sewed to my body.

I want to end it all.

julien prefers tennis. the rush of adrenaline, the ache in his muscles. the satisfaction of a full-bodied swing that sends the ball right to the line. plus, he simply looks cuter during tennis matches. but these days pickleball is rapidly growing in popularity. it's a sport that forces him to rewire his nerves and adjust even the smallest muscles. the same swing he's become notorious for on the courts turns into an immediate out for this game, and julien always plays to win. twirling the racquet in his hand, julien eyes his opponent's stance, their distance, the doubt in their eyes. in just a split-second, he serves the ball with a top-spin that forces his opponent to return with a lob. one more spike is all it takes to grab another point. he still prefers tennis, but this has its rewards, too.