I was drawn to all the wrong things: I liked to drink, I was lazy, I didn’t have a god, politics, ideas, ideals. I was settled into nothingness; a kind of non-being, and I accepted it. I didn’t make for an interesting person. I didn’t want to be interesting, it was too hard. What I really wanted was only a soft, hazy space to live in, and to be left alone.
I’m so fucking weird
I’m the nicest rude person you’ll ever meet.
I don’t give a fuck about anything but at the same time, I care about a lot.
I hate people but I develop crushes easily.
I hate myself but I’m completely fabulous.
I need help.
My entire existence in one post.