Fuck it all.
I am ugly and unlovable and no one, no one could ever love me.
Wah wah. Fuck everything.
I am ugly and unlovable and no one, no one could ever love me.
Wah wah. Fuck everything.
It would be nice to feel beautiful and important.
I feel like a ghost.
My gumption is growing.
Friday night, I took all of my Xanax.
…sadly, it was only 20, and my husband wrestled me until I choked on them and spit most of them out. They all partially dissolved in my throat and on my tongue. All that came of it was some bruises and I felt really calm and fell asleep, then woke with a massive headache the next day, and my mouth still feels fucked up and dry.
It was not enough to have killed me, anyway. And the time isn’t right.
But it won’t be long.
Odi et amo. Quare id faciam, fortasse requiris?
Nescio, sed fieri sentio, et excrucior.
The only thing that brings me comfort now is planning my death.
Thankfully, my plans are almost complete.
“There’s dust on my guitar, you fuck.
And it’s all your fault.
You paralyze my mind.
And for that, you suck.”
My life insurance policy doesn’t hold a suicide clause.
“But I can’t help the feeling
I could blow through the ceiling
If I just turn and run
And it wears me out…it wears me out
It wears me out…it wears me out
If I could be who you wanted
If I could be who you wanted all the time…all the time”
I saw the last half of this documentary last night. It was nice to see that there is someone out there who is fucked up like me, but I think if I did a list like this, I would just finally commit suicide when I was done with it. Like - ok, I did the things I wanted to do, now time to get off this ride.
“and believe me
there’s a better frankenstein
for you to bride
and a better president
to look you in the eyes and lie
we could never decide
what to call the cat
so we called her cat
and it’s time to go
it’s time to go away
it’s time to go
it’s time to go away”
