I’m back to writing on here like a mad woman.

I’m running out of ways to distract myself.

I’ve tried Insatgram but I am so sick of how everyone on there has this picture fucking perfect life.

I tweet like I’m a fucking song bird.

I’ve been cleaning and cooking like a 50’s housewife.

And still you are in every fucking thought I have.

I can’t stand it.

I have to pretend like I’m not empty without you all while trying to portray to everyone else that I am full of life, love, and all things happy.

It’s fucking exhausting.

I want to scream to everyone, ‘Hey assholes! I’m fucking dying here! My soul has been shattered and my heart has been destroyed. I don’t want to put one foot in front of the other or take in my next breath. I am dead on the inside people! The mascara, lip gloss, sunglasses & smile you see or fake! I’m not really feeling anything. I’m literally trying to convince myself to stay on this earth. So I’m sorry if I don’t respond to your texts or calls. I’m not really living and I don’t believe in anything anymore.’

But I don’t.

I just smile while everyone’s looking. I laugh when they are listening and snap out of it when they are watching.

The whole time being fucking dead on the inside.

Sounds like a great life.

Can’t wait to live a lifetime of this.


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