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We’re not always the heroes of our own stories. Sometimes, in our valiant quests to achieve resolution and success for ourselves, we hurt the people who have been there all along.
I’m not a hero, no matter how much I want to be. And I doubt I ever will be.
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The hours are creeping by
I really am ruining everything in my life.
And all I can do is write shitty blurbs on tumblr while grasping for straws of sympathy.
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I’m thinking
it’s one of those ‘sit inside and listen to melancholy music’ Saturday nights.
Being left alone with just my thoughts for this long really sucks.
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We’re never really okay
are we?
I’m not. I’m an emotional tryhard, a self-saboteur who wrecks everything.
I’m losing everything and everyone. I try to set my priorities, and I ignore the things with significant meaning, opting instead to live an unfulfilling life while trying to follow idealistic pursuits.And at points like this, I really wish it would all go away. Life is difficult, and I’m not built to handle it. It’s funny, because I look at things now as really tough to go through, but in ten or twenty years it’ll just be exponentially harder.
I always try to consider myself above others because of my actions, but I’m no better than anyone. I’m expendable right now. Nothing I’ve done has affected the world.
I’m scared.
Scared of being seen as an attention whore.
Scared of losing everything I have because of my self-destructive lifestyle choices.
Scared of alienating those around me because of my lack of control and my ever-fluctuating emotions.I want to be better, but no therapy or medication has made that happen. So, I guess the question to ask is; what’s the point?
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Maybe
the long-winded rants, dripping with condescension, that I post on Facebook (which, ironically, seem to alienate others) are just a defense mechanism, a way to set myself aside from everybody else.
I’m tired of it all.
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(via live-inlove)
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Eh.
I’m not really feeling it right now. And by ‘it’ I mean the overpowering stress that I should have because of life.
I just feel…really lonely.
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Damn.
I’m stressing out over this dumb Bon Iver concert tonight because I don’t know what to do with my other ticket. /firstworldproblems.
It’s extremely frustrating, however, because I’m kinda freaking out.
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I don’t actually know who you are
And I probably never will. But I’m sorry.
I guess I can live out my idealistic life another day. -
I can’t.
I really just can’t anymore.
My eyes are full of tears as I just come to the realization that it’s at an endgame. I’m just done with being like this, being a bearing on friends and family, and just being a self-described failure. I can’t go on living an unfulfilled, miserable, dependent life.
I just can’t.
