#rage journal

[whisperingtowaves]

Dear Universe,

What the actual fuck is your problem? Seriously—what game are you playing at? Because it feels like you’ve been dangling a carrot in front of me for YEARS just to watch me bleed for it. And for what? A laugh? A test? Newsflash: I’m done playing your sick little game.

I’ve been good. I’ve been kind. I’ve done the damn work. I’ve loved, I’ve given, I’ve believed, even when it broke me. And what do I get? Silence. Emptiness. Nights crying myself to sleep while you sit there smug like, “She’ll keep hoping because that’s what good girls do.” Well guess what? I’m not your fucking puppet anymore.

[ragepoly]

This is an online rage journal.

[ragepoly]

From my rage journal, 7/23/16-7/24/16

[ty-rex]

I'm about to only get three hours of sleep and I'm exhausted but can't fall asleep because I'm so full of rage. I can't fucking wait to move out of the hell hole of an apartment and never speak to these idiots again. If only a place would fucking accept our application. Oh and the washer ruined my comforter tonight. I'm also about to make it total hell to live here for as long as they are still here. Fuck you sheric.