a week of unmade bed, you just leave in the morning and crawl back to it at night
(you always loved fresh bedsheets and pillow cases and blankets)
three weeks worth of dirty laundry
(should only be a week)
your cat's litter box hasn't been refilled yet
(you can't drop by the store for litter sand because you're almost always late for work)
two meals a day, mostly junk foods
(you only eat when you feel your knees shaking)
not talking to her
(and you cannot explain why)
difficulty in sleeping
wanting to die
wanting to self-hurt
wanting to feel something
not wanting to wake up
dragging self to work
unable to write
unable to focus
quarter life crisis
shitty moods
anger management
people. fucking people.
wanting to get away
wanting to never come back
hopeless
desiderium
shitty entry, no caps, no rhymes, no thoughts, just a mere diary for whatever the hell is going on
it's just getting worst is all you know
again
(you realized this format doesn't look like all the other entries)
(you realized you don't care tho)
YOU ARE READING
anx·i·e·ty
Randomyou were six and you're never good enough. you do this wrong, you did that right -but not quite. you were six. and you're never good enough. you're thirteen and ain't smart enough. you can't pronounce faux pas properly. you cannot derive formulas...
