I hate those days when you feel soo lonely even if you know you should be grateful and happy. And then you start to tear up and you're like, "AH FUCK I DONT WANNA CRY" and the reason you cry is because you feel like you can't reach that high, your talent is worthless and even your parents know it, and that the source of your own fuckin self worth and self esteem comes from the mouth and words of other people, that when someone says something abolutely not to your liking, you have to act like a diva and actually get dramatically hurt over that because it cut your self-respect to pieces in under than 2 seconds. I hate that it takes too long to build up self esteem when it crashes so easily and even when it feels unreparable. I hate it when I compare myself to other people and know in my heart and head that it would take the amount of surgeries that celebrity Heidi had to even look remotely competitive. I hate when you know that you love and have a passion for something but everything in life is set against you and your future seems like it is written in stone and it is your fault for choosing a road that makes you want to kill yourself over. And don't you hate it when people change dramatically, that the safe harbor that you considered them to be was never there? How someone could make you feel so very important and loved and then make you feel like some random accomplice friend in the other second? Dont you hate it when you feel like you feel so forgotten that you have to consider scary and extreme means to get attention like a sour, butthurt, hollywood bitch? When memories lose their worth, are they meant to be thrown away??

and don't you hate it when you feel that familiar lonely pang set in your heart and you know it hurts because you can feel the sting of water behind your eyes and you can imagine a dagger at your heart...and you appreciate and get friendly with that same feeling? You grasp at it because you are desperate to feel something beating underneath? Desperate to find any reason to blame someone? desperate to actually know that at this point, there is no numbness, but just sweet, sensitive feeling of just feeling hurt? Because it feels delightful, doesn't it? You are a victim at this state and it feels fucking fantastic to point fingers at someone, or just submit to the self-loathing monster at the back of your head.

And I hate that I'm complaining. I hate that there are nice people in the world and that I wasn't born giving and nice, and friendly and simply loveable like them. I was never this bitter. Judgemental and jealous I was when I was younger but I was never this bitter. I guess when childhood caved in on me and made permanent camp in my head, I couldn't face reality.

Don't you just hate that feeling?