#maybe i shuold . not do that. if im trying to . not be sad | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thebrightestringaroundthemoon · 6 years

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anyway time to use this blog for what i created it for i guess and type out a big long thing about how im a worthless piece of shit and should pour myself a nice big glass of creamer, sugar, and clorox. i literally serve like? no purpose? in life? at all? im a completely directionless failure that operates with about the complexity of a fucking roomba, running into the same goddamn couch over and over again and slightly redirecting. if i get lucky, i run into a different couch, but nothing fucking changes. i do the exact same thing over and over again: surround myself with wonderful, fantastic people, fuck it up and make them hate me, and then spiral into a pit of my own pointless fucking despair until i realize im such a fucking failure of a person i cant even muster the energy it takes to fucking die so i just get up again in the morning and go again. rinse and fucking repeat. and its not like i have some horrible life or anything, im just profoundly unfit to exist on this planet. i have wonderful friends who actually, honest to god care about me and its evidently not good enough for me?? so i just respond to everything by assuming the worst, spiralling, and being too much of a dumb bitch to fucking talk to A N Y B O D Y about A N Y T H I N G cuz i guess i’d rather make a dumb edgy tumblr blog named after the lyrics to a fucking asia song than actually solve any of my problems. i guess its too much to solve a problem when the fundamental core of who you are as a person is the fucking problem. i mean, there is a solution, but ive already covered why nobody needs to be worried about me doing that! bnobody needs to be worried about me doing anytuhing! accomplishing anything! ever becoming anything! ever managing to do much more than drag myself out of bed in the morning and inspire a profoundly sad mixture of pity and annoyance in everyone iv’e ever come into fucking contact with! im sitting here debating fixing the fucking apostrophe in the last sentence and its driving me fucking mad while real people have real fucking problems and my cardboard cutout ass bad edgy teen novel stupid bitch excuse for a person ass is sitting here doing THIS with my fucking time. I have things i shuold be doing, could be doing, but this is legitimately all i can bring myself to fucking contribute to society at this point. the surest sign that the people around me are fucking saints is that theyve stuck around this fucking long but honestly i dont fucking undeerstand. i guess thats the whole point of shit like saints, you arent supposed to be able to understand, its superhuman compassion, even for those who dont fucking deserve it. or maybe its just because i fundamentally dont work. i dont have any sort of actual power when it comes to my life. these are the idle musings of a bewildered spectator, the one person who comes to the party, stays sober, and sits on the sidelines and watches the fucking idiocy unfold. except instead of drunkenly stumbling around and telling my friends how much i love them, im stone cold sober and sitting on the sidelines watching myself fail to take even the most basic fucking steps towards fixing literally any problem that im dealing with. broken. non functional. i dunno if i was born a failure, though. i think that might be giving myself a little too much credit. other people were dealt infinitely worse hands than i was and they turned out fucking wonderful. i know a couple of them. no, i think im the way i am because of me. i probably had all the chances i needed to become something resembling a human being, and instead im whatever i am now. how can i be excited about some sort of future for myself when i can barely manage a relatively privliged day to day existance? i have friends, im not starving, im in college, i have an apartment. im far from rich but im able to afford to go to college. that should be enough. why the fuck isnt that enmough. why cant i just be fucking satisfied why cant i muster some sort of positive fucking emotions why does joy last a few moments why can i do this so much easier than writing anything positive about my life why does this flow like it does like a fucking river why cant i stop my hands why why what the fuck why why am i like this why was i born why am i who i am it flows so easily it just comes out but i cant tell anyone and i cant rely on anyone because im not anyone in noone im the fucking nobody that people keep around them to make themselves feel better and the only reason i have the slightest bit of doubt about that is that i love my friends too much to ever accuse them of something like that but then again does it fucking count when its someone like me do i qualify as a fucking person does it count as hurting someone’s feelings or using them when that someone isn’t a someone is just an empty fucking shell that was only gifted with the capacity to retain HURT thats all i can fucking remember thats all that sticks with me HURT i cant fucking be rid of it and its not some sort of innate inherent biological failing its who i am as a person i did this to myself i do this to myself i dont know that i will ever stop doing this to myself. all i can hope for is that one day i gain the strrength the fucking self esteem and self respect to kill myself. maybe it isnt self respect i need for that but respect for my friends. its selfish to put them through me. the pain they’d feel from my death would last a short time if at all. it would be so much better than forcing them to know me for however long this failing fucking body will carry my empty shell of a spirit onwards thjrough a world that i dont deserve to fucking inhabit. my inner monologyue put on paper sounds like a fucking evanescence song and i hate myself for it so much jesus fucking christ. i fundamentally do not like myself. as a person. on any level. i do not like myself. i wouldnt be friends with me, and ironically i hate myself for that too. but who would? who the fuck would? why does anyone? do they? maybe thats my one fucking talent. convincing people im likable. worming my way into their fucking lives until they trust me only to realize that i am not a human being. im an empty shell, a fucking roomba of a person. i can tell when ive run into something and back up so i can run into it again. i cannot solve my own problems. i cannot even conceptualize them. im something below a human cursed with the fucking ability to think at the level of one. my ocd is really really desperately trying to get me to scroll up and fix all the spelling and grammar errors but i dont know if itll hurt more to ignore them or to have to read the dumb ashit i just wrote. earlier i said that i wanted this to flow less easily and here we are i guess. though earlier i meant it in the context of only being able to properly conceptualize negative feelings and never being abkle to hold onto anything piositive i feel, and that hasn’t been magically fixed or anything, im just having trouble feeling anything at all now. im a completely blank slate. i havent even cried once troday. i cant. i cant care about my own fucking inadequacy and failure as a very basic human being enough to even fucking cry. i cried about an anime a couple nuights ago. i can muster emotion for that. but as soon as i look inwards i dont see ahyuthing thEres NOTHING FUICKING THERE THERE IS NOTHING FUCKING THERE THERE IS NOTHING FUCKING THERE I AM NOT A HUMAN BEING I AM NOT A HUMAN BEING I AM BROKEN I AM EMPTY I AM A {PLAGUE ON WHOEVER HAS THE PURE FUCKING MISFORTUNE TO BE A GOOD ENOUGH PERSON TO TAKE PITY ON ME i dont want to die, even. too many steps, too much feeling, too much. i just want to stop. to end. i want to no longer be. ill lock tghat away with all the other things id love to happen but know never will. that ones at the forefront though. it always will be. until i grow the fucking compassion to put others out of my misery. my roomate just texted me an innocuous questiona nd i texte d bacjk normally emojis and all im normal dont you see everyone im normal nothings wrong with me. oh sure sometimes i have a bad day but im fine everybody IM FINE you aren’t you have to put up with me ill fucking worm my way into your life and convince you im a real human being you can hold a congersation with only to snatch the fucking rug out from under you as soon as you actually attempt to engage with me on any level and i just end up eiother hurting you or revealing accidently that there is no such thing as luna thats not a fucking person its a name assigned to a loose collections of disorders, bad habits, and a gaping emotional black hoile from which nothing can fucking escape, jammed into an ugly broken body thats going to kill me early and doesnt even compensate by making me hot. wHEE. and of course, unable to be happy with anything, i will simultaneously complain about my own impending death due to horrific nutrition, subastance abuse (just the fun kinds so people dont realize anything is wrong WHEEEE) and some fucky illness that ive now gone and stopped medicating because im a stupid worthless bitch, AND I WILL COMPLAIN ABOUT THIS WHILE SIMULATENOUSLY WANTING TO DIE what do i want? who the fuck knows! not me! that’s a redundant statement, of course “me” doing know bercause thats not a thing im not a person! id love to blame it on my complete and total internal faliure as a person that i always end up hurting people, but honestly its probably because i dont put enough fucking effort in. even right now,. literally hours after a good friend of mine ostaroted feeling like shit in a way that is almost for sure my fucking fault, im doing THIS instead of trying to right the situation (to b fair she made a point of not inviting me but inviting the rest of the group?) or did she am i just reading into this? who knows! who the fuck knows! everyone but “me”! ejveryone else knows! becayuse its probably REALALLY FUCKING SIMPLE BUT NOOOOO I CANT EVEN MANAGE THAT CAN I I CANNNOT EVEN FUCKING MANMAGE TO MANAGE THAT CAN I thats too much for lil ol me! i am aggressively pointless! i am the single least important collection of fucking atoms on this planet! every last fucking rock i stepped on walking to and from the class that i skipped half of today is more important and has contribtued more to the grand scheme of things than i ever have or ever will, and thats jkust the inanimate fucking objects on the ground. lets not even get started on all the actual people whose time my existance waste, who i am a fucking affront to by sheer virtue of being in any way associated with them at any point in time ever. i guess this is it, this is what i get when my entire personlaity is a loosely cobbled together collection of self deprecating jokes and a fake ego, desperately attempting to patch over an interior that has holes in it less than it just is one giant fucking hole. i was, am, and will be nothing, not even enough to earn the use of “I” at the beginning of the sentence. dinner is in 15 minutes. my friends will be there. im paralyzed. i belive every word i wrote above so why

would i inflict myself upon them but i

i cant not

i so deeply want to

to go sit in uncharacteristic silence and hope somebnody notices and asks me whats up so i can give them a dumb, abridged, mostly fake version and get the sad pity looks and then feel bad about exploiting them and then

rinse

repeat

because i am not a person

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