in one post, i’m happy
in the next, i want to die and i’m empty
i guess i was never really happy in the first post
anyways what am i saying
i found sharp stuff that used to be my grandpas
i put them in my bag without asking yiayia
maybe i will use them or draw a pretty picture or poem but i don’t know where and what
i want to die. i do feel empty. i’m done with suffering.
maybe suffering is a choice and maybe i’m choosing to be this way. but when i’m “happy” or glad i do not feel full or satisfied. i feel like i’m faking. i feel like i’m distracted.