Things Can't Be Different Unless You Make Them Different. I Just Put A Post Out There Trying To Make

5.30.23 - Profit off the Psychiatry. (excerpt)

My parents don't like the smell of the incense i burn. Its religious. They complain about it behind my back, like they do me.

the most punk rock thing i do is wearing my rapist/physical-assaulter/abuser’s ring occasionally whenever things are bad.

it’s like a lil reminder that i will survive, and that’s p cool :)

the Gods answer things in the most wild ways. i made a new (old) friend!! here i was praying and wishing for michael to come back, but the universe said “nope! have this instead!!” and yk what? maybe this is better. turns out i can’t ever fully leave roc behind, and maybe i didn’t want to :’)

i pray so often for my friends and chosen family, but i just know that no one is out there praying for me.

oh my god and don’t even get me started on this OTHER girl who was my other soulmate on earth. from halloweens, to fake dating, and ice skating lessons after sleepy breakfasts.

i miss her, i hate that i threw up distance because she was leaving me and i hated her for it. i wish we could have had more time together, i wish distance didn’t force us apart.

i wish you didn’t get distant and i didn’t turn mean.

i miss you every damn day.

bpd is a bitch.

i forgot how fucking delulu i get over this specific person. i need to just be fucking shot.

i’m obviously sad how hard would it be to say you love me, or maybe try sending something to cheer me up? anything?