| We're not real.I can't get past the fact that one day I am going to die. I am going to cease to exist and there's nothing I can do about it. It could be tomorrow or it could be in 50 years, and I'm absolutely terrified. I don't want to be nothing. I want to experience, and thinking about the experiences ending is heartbreaking. It has consumed my mind and I've been a nervous wreck for months now. I can't go more than an hour without the thought creeping back into my conscious. I suppose you could say I finally understand my own mortality. I'm not religious, I have no belief system. Deep down I believe that when I die there is nothing, and that's scary. It's a circumstance beyond my control and I can't handle it. |
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| [No Subject]I have two conflicting thought processes.
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| Your girlfriend.HAHAHA she doesn't have eyebrows.
Too bad you blew your chance with me.
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| One More Saturday.Don't. Don't say it. Don't say we're not okay.
Don't tell me we're not friends anymore. Don't tell me the last few years weren't real.
I don't want to hear anymore goddamn excuses. I don't want to hear that "this is what happens when school starts.."
No. This didn't happen last year. I don't want to hear it.
You're all a bunch of fucking flakes.
And you. I liked you, okay? We sat there on that playground. We were so classy with cigarettes between our fingers. You held me and even though I didn't understand why, it felt good. Safe. Protected. It's something I haven't felt from anyone in a really long time.
But fuck you for being just another goddamn flake.
I was stupid for thinking I could have a best friend again.
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