I tend to see a lot of unfortunate souls lurking around the area and I really can’t help but pity them. They know the actual struggle while I make believe a strife that really isn’t prohibiting me from reaching my full potential. My only restraint is my mind which is flooded by unwanted thoughts.
It feels so wonderful to be accomplished and knowing that you dedicated time out a somewhat hectic life style to complete whatever task it was. I love being proud of myself for doing things that I had no motivation doing.
It really feels great.
After a while of being insecure, you realize it won’t get better. You realize that you won’t get anywhere in life. This is where self loathing takes a turn for the worse. You start to hate yourself. You let that hatred infest your mind, poison your blood, pollute your thoughts, and parasitically influence your actions. This is where it gets dangerous and lonely. You convince yourself that solidarity is the only way to being semi-sane. Your sanity is harmed. You are so alone.
"That is all I want in life: for this pain to seem purposeful."
- Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation (via larmoyante)
(Source: larmoyante, via 500daysofpity-deactivated201304)
I am insufficient in adequate affection.
I will not love you when you are down, no.
I will not care for your lonely soul.
I can not do that for you, my dear.
Only you can do that.
I am not your magic mirror
Who will deceitfully tell you what you want to hear.
I can not do that for you, my dear.
What I can do is love you so poorly
That you learn to love yourself.
That is my message.
Value yourself my dear
For no one else will do it better.
Fiction is the greatest adventure. An escape. That’s why I write. That’s why I read. To adopt a different universe.
