I like to push people away a lot. I dont know why. Im just really, really good at it.
Half of the time i dont even know what I want to be doing. Its like somebody took a laser and seared my brain down the middle and split it in half. One half - the lovey side. The other side?
That's me, like half the time.
Well, most of the time.
Usually im just so completely out of control of my own mind. I dont know how to quit. Somebody hijacked my brain and theyre controlling what I do. I do something, and I want to do the opposite.
I love pushing people away. But i dont.
Im hot and cold, as im sure youve realized. I could be your best friend and then the next second I'd be screaming at you. I could be hating the thought of you touching me and then be begging for a hug.
Im hot and cold, but it feels like the most dominant factor in me is cold. Because I am cold.
Figuratively and literally. Its literally because its snowing outside. Im pretty sure we're all going to die. Yall fucks done killed the planet. Good job.
Its figuratively because if you know anything about me you know Im a little shit. Thats my reputation. Everyone expects me to be a dick and I fill the quota. We dont have a lot of dicks here. I have to support the team somehow.
Im not going to say too much about this subject. But my dad... oh my FUCK, where do I start. My dad is, quite frankly, the shittiest dad I've ever had.
Technically he's the only dad I've ever had. But thats probably going to change here at the end of July... i let myself slip in front of the idiot and now he's 97% convinced I am just a sad child in need of an actual father. RIP to that wall I built, I guess.
Like I said above, my brain cant decide what it wants me to do. Half of the time I can't even decide what I want to do. Its kind of like knowing the right path to take, but its blocked off so you have no choice but to go the other way. I have such a short temper that usually by the time I have to pick my path, my brain has already sealed off the right one and left me with the only other one. The anger path.
The one I always choose, as much as everybody else is concerned. The cussing path, the yelling and screaming path, the all around generally shitty, broken child, path. The path that I want to blame my Dad for materializing in the first place. Because I hate taking blame for things.
Fuck, I hate this. I hate me.
As much as everybody else is concerned, I hate everything.
Sometimes I forget that only the idiot has broken my wall down. Everybody else is still knocking at the walls.
I dont want it to break. I really dont.
Fuck off.
