Says She So.

Everything hurts. My feet, from moshing at the bar last night. My legs, from standing all day at work. My brain, from no sleep/too much anxiety. My throat, from the constant smoking. My stomach, because I just binged on sunflower seeds.
My strained eyes hold too may tears, but never enough fall to shield the pain.

I went out last night, got super drunk and stumbly. Saw T. . . and broke down. I don't even know what I said or did or how I acted or looked but I know I was pissed and stressed and hating him, because he is a player and a pedophile and overall jackass. I fucking hate him and want him to like me, what a terrible clash of feelings to deal with. It's like he's my father (ha, inside joke I guess...or I'm a little too interested in psychology).

I feel sick! I wonder how many times I've typed those three words these past months. Probably a lot. I always feel sick. Sick and tired. Of life. Of me, mostly. And my ways.

I lost my focus for this post, I'm sorry. I'm a shitty person. I'm a fatass failure. If I died no one would notice. I bet there wouldn't be one of those facebook groups in my memory. Who would care enough to make one? I can't think of anyone...

My cat is asleep next to me, on top of my desk.

I can't stop crying.