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Sometimes I'm afraid of myself, thanks to my self-hatred and the depression that come to play again.
It's been a long time since my everyday life became killing my passions and comparing myself with others.
My parents came up the first time I went to the psychiatrist, they got counseling with me, they said they hardly knew me.
I don't even know my own self, so who can know me? Friends? No, you? Whoever it is, they don't know me.
The doctor asked me, I said unhesitatinly that I'd been like that before. A word like habit, I don't give a shit, I don't give a fuck.
Those words are all words I use to hide my weak self. The memories I want to erase of that day I hid in the bathroom and stared at myself.
I can't die so I'm living, I don't have anything I want to do. I'm suffering more than anything. I'm lonely.
I'm living because I can't die. I don't have anything I want to do, I'm in so much pain and loneliness, yet people around me keep telling me to regain consciousness. I try to vent my anger, but what's the point if it's only me?
Saying I don't want to do anything really sucks. I know it's pitiful to not even have an ordinary dream. If I just do what I'm told and go to university, it's all okay. The me who believed those words was a moron.
I can't die, I'm living.
Even my family didn't expect my success, even got me surprised, need to say no more, toughest cookie in the family. I'm a public enemy talking shit about us and taking advantage of us, those bros know how the money tastes, same lips saying two different things and head to the big corporatesm, what you know about me? You can't control my shit, take back all you said before you bounce, you ask me how I made it and I really got nothin' to say.
I wish it would all disappear, like a mirage, I wish that the damned me would disappear.
I'm sorry, I mean it I am.
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- JoinedAugust 12, 2015