Buzzard king @twonkubi - Tumblr Blog

Sometimes when a good reel of an guy playing acoustic comes on I close my eyes and pretend I’m back in the living room and my dads playing guitar again and everything’s okay, even though it’s really not, but I don’t know any better.

The fucked up thing about working as physically hard as I do is I try to tell people and they literally just cannot comprehend it. Like they get it, it’s hard work, but they do not know what it feels like or how your brain works after swinging a pickaxe at burning garbage for 12 hours straight

I do not feel cared about

why am I such an irredeemable piece of shit, entitled weak man baby. I want to just die at fucking work. What’s the fucking point I am just the same piece of shit at the end of the day whiny little entitled boy who wants attention. Nothing is ever good enough. The world is always too much. Why the fuck can’t I just rip this shit to shreds with a smile on my face. Why does excellence taste so fucking miserable. Why am I entirely convinced that if I stop operating at these redline parameters that the entire world will come to a halt. Why won’t my siblings call me.

I am thematically doomed to ruin and poison and love that comes to me, it’s a constantly ticking clock I am reminded of every time I act like the petulant beats my father was. I am fucked. I am so fucked. I should have been a better boy.

I wish I could hear my dad tell me he loves me and that I’m doing good and he’s proud of me

Why am I the only person anywhere who FUCKING THINKS ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE

Having a panic attack because I spent the first day in two months relaxing and playing video games and now I’m completely fucked on weekend chores

I need help so bad. I wish anyone in my life worked as hard as I do

I’m only ever punished for things out of my control