I tried to go out and walk. But creepers.
And I get suspicious.
There’s so much that I need to say. And no one who needs to hear it will listen. And I can’t fucking blame them. Some nights…I just fucking hate myself. Not who I am right now. But who I was. No amount of good decisions or apologies, or tears will bring back all of the awesome that I had and completely threw away. I’m lucky enough to just have back what I have now.
Regardless. There are tears. Apologies. And good decisions.
It’s too little too late. And that fucking hurts, because I had so much time to get it right. It makes me physically ill to think about it. I could go back in time…and scream at past me. And ask…you know…”Don’t you fucking care?”
The truth is…The faster you try to run from who you were, the faster the ground beneath you seems to crumble.
Pardon the melodrama, Tumblr.
I never sit around and think about this. I don’t make a habit of sitting around and hating myself. But when i do…oh. Oh it does come out. Anyways.
Yeah.
Ignore this.
I’ll delete this later.
God damn it…
