Coimhéad an fhear na foighde.
I am not crying for attention, nor am I seeking help. I am just....venting. Let me begin by saying that for those of you who take the time to read my rambling; I thank you. Those who could care less; happy scrolling und trolling :)
Earlier (30 minutes ago) I was thinking about some things....the past und shite....it often goes too far. I start thinking about how I could have done more (if I could have), if I needed to do less, or if I should have just given her a nice "Póg mo thóin" und been on with my merry self. But I'm dumb und took it to the point of chasing this girl until I drove myself to self harming....then I take solace in the fact that if I had committed suicide I would have never met my current girlfriend. I always seem to go back to thinking about committing und getting it all over with because I always find a way to fuck something up. Or at least that's what my self conscious mind tells me....so I end up where I was to begin with. A suicidal self harming freak of nature. Nobody notices my scars. I mean, I don't think so at least. I guess it's a good thing that no one does. It's not like I flaunt them like a pompous attention seeking whore flaunts her hair after she gets it done for a whopping 20$ und claims it to be a 209,876,567,890$ hair job....it's like, fuck you, mate. Nobody gives a fuck whether your baby daddy doesn't pay child support or not. Give it up. Pay attention to the teacher you may learn a thing or two. Unless you're that self-centered that you have to check your make-up in the bathroom during review for tomorrows test. Und you can lose that fucking attitude, or else I'm gonna lose my shit und make mashed brain und blood stew with your still beating heart on the side. Honestly, for fucks sake, will you get over yourself? There's only a year left of school, I want to enjoy them. Not dread the fact that I have to hear you whiny stuck-up senseless babble. That's what babies are for you skank. "Go n-ithe an cat thú is go n-ithe an diabhal an cat" I hope you like the feeling of burning for eternity. Now, back to self-pity. I daydream. A lot....more than your healthy dose. I wander the darkest bits of my mind....wondering things like, "Why do I deserve to live?" or "How awesome would it feel to be on top of the highest place I can find und just....jump!" Like....either of those are valid thoughts. I hate heights. Why not conquer that fear by using it to take my own life? It'd be fun. But then I go back to thinking....how would poor Emilie feel? What would she do with herself? I could never put her through that....nor anyone else for that matter. There is no such thing as a clear mind. I can't have a moment to myself und just be at complete peace with my existence without the thought of dying. It's almost like someone is controlling my mind und letting me think happy thoughts one minute then throws me into a pit of depression with the inescapable truth of me being a mortal. I mean....FUCK, mate. I'm 16 years old....und I'm worrying about things I should be worrying about in 70 years. There I go again....you're reading this fast, as if it's not taking an hour or 2 to write this, but right after I wrote, "70 years." I got this gross butterfly type feeling und a quiver in my lip. The feeling I get right before I break into tears, or some shite....to those who read this und think I'm putting myself down; I'm not. I simply vent once in a while. Und to those who are most likely reach out to me (if anyone does) please don't. I just like to write to get things off my mind. I am fine. Und not the fake fine that I've used as a cover story to hide true emotion....but I am content with my life as it is. Somewhat....meaning, there's more to this than it seems. Yes....more than me wallowing in the fact that a girl left me cold-heartedly, came back to me telling me she loved me und ended up with a different guy the next day....times 4....driving me to go suicidal. Yes. More than that. Und it makes me....what's a word for more than upset?
Again....to anyone who reads this; I thank you.
To those who read it and hate me for writing it; I would like to hear about it in my inbox.
To those who skipped to the end to get it over with; dafuq?
To those just wanting an honourable mention; this isn't the Grammy's, mate.
To those who see this and only this part of what I just wrote; read it if you're bored.
To those who didn't read it; /okayface
To my followers; sorry for ruining your dash if you didn't like the read. If you did, then you're welcome.
To Emilie; I'm sorry if I upset you with this....
