Fighting...

...off the strong urge to laugh.

I hoped that was coming.

So very fitting.

Loving how that turned out.

Bitch.

You know how I know in back at school?

Cursing.

I'm already tired of being home.

This place is a drain.

On my time, emotions, brain.

It's like there's not a single redeeming quality to this place anymore.

I really don't like being here.

Brings back memories that I don't particularly want to remember.

Like my sit in my hottub.

Be jealous.

I wouldn't be if I knew how it turned out.

Having a seemingly rough time right now.

At a new low.

Bed time.

My feelings are a mix between hate, annoyance, distrust, doubting, and a bunch of other pronouns that are only mean and hateful.

But fuck me right?

X[

(me after I shoot myself)