This kid thinks that just because he’s some privileged dickhead, he can go around screwing over anyone he wants.

Don’t make make me kick your ass, you little bitch.

I’m not some type of clay.

You can’t make me into whatever you want me to be, nor can I fit the mold you try to capture me in. 

I’m not some type of one-dimensional, see-through glass being you make me out to be. 

I’m fucking human and no matter how hard you try to encase me into a description or stuff me into an image, I’ll find some way to run away.

Because I know myself and the sad part is that you…

You will never. 

It’s such a relief that I have my computer back so I can pour out every single depressing thought I have in my system onto the internet. 

There’s no telling what will happen or where this road will take me. I don’t know how far I can go without missing the predictability of my life. I’ve lost the rhythm in which I pace myself with and I can’t imagine myself just picking myself up and dusting myself off. They always tell you “suck it up” but in this moment, I simply don’t know how.