This made me wanna cry.

This made me wanna cry.

I feel foolish for being upset as much as i am, but maybe i have fun being a fool. Maybe its foolish to love; maybe i want to be a fool in love. Who knows.
I think its human of me to seek answers and knowledge. Im just trying to live. Like, really live. It may be a fault of mine to have a pre-meditated thought of what that is, but that’s because i missed the way things used to be to an extent, and that’s not good when your looking forward. I miss doing random things, staying up to late with old friends and meeting new friends along the way. Going to work the next day feeling like shit, but reminiscing on all the fun you had. I almost feel like ive already lived.


If I could take the world, and make enough room in it for myself, i’m not entirely sure that I would; But the option would mean the world to me. Im just scared to death of a world outside my own. Any bad thought, or pain I can dream is no bodys fault but my own. I can handle blaming myself. I can handle the war between my head and heart because I am on both sides of the field. But then I think; If I am firing away at myself, in battle between I, and myself, then is there really an incentive to win? Lost in a body of gunpowder, and killing machines.
So maybe I am comfortable losing. Maybe I am a loser. But I can’t let you tell me that. I can’t let the rest of the world see it, Because then I would fit ever so perfectly into itself. I like my own just fine.


The day I broke free.
There was nothing left of me, and that was a beautiful thing.

Bon Iver - I Can't Make You Love Me
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Full of anger.
Full of hell.
I’ll find my way.

It has been a steady stream downward since you left. The dam is giving way, I can feel the pace of the water growing.
I want to blame you for this. But how can I, when you are the one strong enough to think for yourself.
I somehow have the audacity to let my life be dictated by your death. I can never feel alive if all u think about is your death; so I keep moving, and it’s hell. I hate every bit of it.
Everything is sharp, everything is dangerous. Everything hurts, even the love I freely shared with you, and everyone else I carefully chose.

Day 130

I miss you.
I love you.
I just want one of those big brother hugs, little brother.

Day 114

I still can’t stop crying.
you were fucking fifteen. 
How do you establish so much sadness like that? 
And here I am selfishly letting my life sprial out of control with frustration and depression. Clearly im just not that sad; I havent killed myself. 
God damn it, I miss my fucking brother more then anything in the world.
Nothing has shaken me so hard like this. 

If you are constantly spiraling downward, and also trying to take the proper steps forward, you are still in the ground; No matter what direction you are moving. Really infuriating putting in so much work in vain.
I’m ready to surface, but I don’t know how.

How easy could it be, coming out of the ground when the world stuffs you in a casket, seals it, and burrys you down six feet.