my pen isn’t weighted

sorry

[towerofbigsad]

blue red and pink and yellow

[cheaphalloweencostume]

me: I should do laundry

my brain: you should die

me: touché

[towerofbigsad]

I hate this brain and body, and i want to die Lol

[annehathaways]

[towerofbigsad]

I’m trapped. No matter what I choose, I’m stuck. Sure, end it, the tools are there, then what? Leave them with the trauma, the guilt, the sadness, the bills. No, to do that would be the last worst thing I could ever do, I couldn’t, at least not with what self control I have left. Then what, stay, “live,” coast more aptly, drift, until I finally give out. Maybe I should take up drinking, or something. Even if I do that, what does that do for my father, regardless of being a state away, he’d feel even worse. I envy the sociopath, the person so disassociated with themselves the only guilt they feel is that uneeze which settles in to remind them of emotions they once harboured. I just don’t want to be here anymore. He’ll go not long after me, I would hope he wouldn’t, but it doesn’t look positive. If I go, I’m scared he may follow.

[towerofbigsad]

closed casket

[towerofbigsad]

I don’t want to like him. He doesn’t care about me, think of me, like me, ask me anything. I just want to die. There’s no valid reason why I should feel so infatuated with him. He even sends me crap and tells me what he wants romantically, which is fine, but again why do I still like him. Why..

[towerofbigsad]

why

[towerofbigsad]

He AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPATHETIC PATHETIC PATHETIC PATHETIC UGLY PIECE OF SHIT WASTE OF FLESH WASTE OF AIR WASTE OF LIFE CAYLEN THE PATHETIC BAG OF FAT Can’t even help him to see that if one person can overlook the things he’s insecure about, that someone else will as well. You truly don’t matter, not to him, he didn’t even factor you into his decision. Do you want to know why? To him, you’re just alone, desperate, a faggot, and obsessed, to him you simply don’t count as a person, whether that be a cute girl or a cute boy.

[towerofbigsad]

You don’t like me, and that’s okay, I’d have hated myself anyway.

[towerofbigsad]

I just don’t want to be here anymore.

[towerofbigsad]

After all this time, I realise, I’ve allowed myself to be used again. Not in the same fashion as was usual, but nonetheless, used. I apply myself to be a good friend, be his friend, a person who I already felt more than I should for, and in doing so twisted myself up with confusion. Mind you, it’s not his fault, not at all. It’s everything else, especially my own preexisting issues. I should’ve put more space between our conversations, should’ve dampened further my feelings for him, but I couldn’t. He told me that the things he tells me, he wasn’t sure and still isn’t sure why he tells them to me, but he’s comfortable. As a friend, why should I take it away, be less his friend when he is nothing like how Deven was. And within this last year, I’ve come to recognise something my mother didn’t. I don’t need love, I just need to be used, and if someone like him, S, a friend benefits, then it’s all the better. But therein lies my problem: I don’t want to be here anymore. Earlier I visualised downing a cup of detergent while I put blankets to wash, before that and within these last several months, I’ve been considering utilising the sleeping medication. I know these are my only options to “survive;” I’m not attractive, not desirable, were I, I’d use that to fill the void, be used. But I’m not. I’ll never have the body I want, never love this form, myself, my selfish, dirty soul. I’ll never be happy, be confident enough to wear and express myself. I can’t be happy. And with my life, my decisions till now, I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve the supposed care he says he feels, the love this family offers. I just want to dissipate from their memories, and fade away from life. Why? Why did he have to say that? I already fucking know how shite of a person I am, how selfish and deplorable of a fat, ugly soul I am, so why did he have to tell me those things? If I die, he blames himself, this family will take the blame upon themselves. If I die, I just make it all worse. I’m a curse, no matter what I choose to do.

[towerofbigsad]

I want to feel loved, wanted. But I know this is as much a dream as all the others I experience, delusions built on the foundations of loneliness, abandonment, abuse. I am nothing, and with the nothingness I feel for myself-my wellbeing-I am incapable of being loved by someone else. I guess even I felt some measure of confidence when she met me, or perhaps I truly did just win her over via my pitiable desperation. I want nothing more than to die at this point. I don’t have a future, none that I want, none that seem possible. I continue living knowing there’s nothing I want from life anymore, not really. I have a family, an adopted one, and I love them. I have two other families, each of them I’ve ostracised, or been abandoned by. I’ve inadvertently or voluntarily pushed friends away. I’m a mess of a human being, not even my writing conjures up any conceivable sense, or adoration. I just want to die, lie in my casket, that plain, pine box, my face covered from those who would peer inside, at me, asking me, “Why?” My only answer will be in that existence, “Because I could no longer try. Because it hurt too much to continue with this life than to simply end it. Because I just want to feel nothing instead of everything, and always hurting those close to me.”

[towerofbigsad]

[towerofbigsad]

I’m glad he feels he can tell me anything. The truth for me is that I can’t tell him just anything, at least that’s what I feel is right. He doesn’t deserve to deal with all my bullshit, my awkwardness, my trauma, worries, me. Telling him now, when he’s already aware, that I want to fade away, is null, meaningless. And I’m sorry, but there is no way he’s being truthful about caring. I don’t even want him to care. I hate myself for the fact that even though I press for nobody to do it, they feel a need to usher reassures, and thus did he. He’d miss the sporadic but long discussions, me, ha! I doubt that very much, I’m nothing, a pathetic mound of flesh and fat; what he cares about, even if he doesn’t realise it, is having someone to tell all the unpleasantness. Having even a stranger, especially a friendly past acquaintance of a stranger, to tell all your problems and your inner feelings to, is always better than nobody, than as an anonymous post on a site that not a single soul will read or even possibly understand. He’d miss a journal in the form of a past friend he knew. I know it sounds so crude, mean, and heartless, but I cannot feel it’s any other way. He doesn’t care, he wouldn’t care, how can he? It’s me. Speaking to him now leaves a bitter and hollow feeling in my body. I want to be his friend, so tell me, please, why can’t I be rid of my attraction to him?

[ceciliapaege]

I’m 99 pounds again fuckers 🎉

Rb for good luck loosing any regained weight

[towerofbigsad]

You are sin. You are disgusting. You are unlovable, detestable. No one can say your full name without cringing. You are pathetic. I wish you would die in your sleep, you ugly little worm of a human. Fat and uneven and gorging.

he doesn’t like you, disgusting, jealous pig boy. He’s known of your continued feelings, and to think you actually thought you had a chance with him? You pathetic, self loathing, half-loved child. He doesn’t like you. You need to just end it. Now. You know no one will love you the way she did, the way you loved her, or him. You are nothing, a parasite, a paradigm for self loathing and ugliness. He will never want anything to do with you, and you know damn well he only uses you as an outlet, even if he doesn’t know it. You are so low, so beneath him and everybody else. He won’t love you. If he did, he would’ve said so tonight. Give up, drive the knife you felt tonight, twist it deep, and die. I don’t want to live like this. I don’t want to be here, be me, this isn’t who I want to be. I want to like him.. I want to hug him and be his, I want to be happy someday. I want to feel cute and pretty. But I’ll never be, never be happy, never be content with my reflection. I want to die, I don’t want to be here anymore please.. please