I wish I liked anything as much as I hate me. To have to be around me all the time is painful which is why I'm constantly in a medicated haze. It makes life livable.
If my brain were a limb it would be oozing pus and goopy with infection. And maybe someone would've cut the infection out or amputated the limb. But brain problems don't work like that. I wish the sick part of my brain would be dug out at the root and thrown away. Maybe someday.
I don't actually want to die. I'm terrified of dying. I don't want to meet God and my ancestors knowing that I killed myself. I'm afraid that death will hurt. But at the same time I feel so stuck that there is no other word for what I want. I can't live this way, I don't want to live any other way. I don't want anything. I'm only content in my sleep, and only if it's dreamless. I hurt when I wake up. My body hurts. The space between my layers of skin hurt. My pores hurt. My veins ache. My eyes burn. I can't see. I don't see. And people snicker when I talk to something that's not there.
If only my life were more like 1983.
All these things would be more like they were at the start of me.
I don't even know what's happening right now... This can't be real life.
You can't even hurt my feelings because every "mean" thing you're thinking is not only true, but I've already thought it at least once since you started reading this sentence.