All I ever seem to be doing is running. Whether it's from responsibilities or myself, sometimes I even run from people. I usually end up falling and being consumed with this self deprecating feeling. I always question myself.

'Do they care?'

'Why are you running?'

'Can you really not handle anything at all?'

I can't tell you why I do these things, but I do. I know I have a choice in the matter, but it really feels like I don't. Some people say that a smile will help me get through everything. But what use is a smile if it makes my face ache. The fake happiness that everyone perceives is disgusting in it's own way. Nobody is happy all of the time, yet when someone reveals their unhappiness…everyone pretends that it can't happen. That nobody is drowning in their own thoughts or actions. I refuse to show anyone just how far down I've gone, no matter how bad it gets. That's the issue I believe everyone faces at some point. They just refuse to show anyone, and sometimes they believe it's better for them to be gone or they just can't handle it anymore. I envy them in a way.

To have the courage to finally give in.

To give up.

I wish I could that.

And yet here I am wishing my life away when people would so desperately cling to what I have. I find it kind of pathetic considering they would want to live in this hell of mind I have. There are days when everything feels okay. Although I know they won't last long, I usually pretend that everything is alright for far too long and end up even worse than before. That's probably why I am so far down in my own hell. Oh well. Since I am the one who has to want to change, I'm afraid it isn't happening anytime soon. Writing everything out helps to an extent, although I would much rather not have to. But sadly if I don't write anything down I end up wanting to slit my own throat, and other's too. Can't forget about the stupid people who force themselves into your life and cling to your insecure generosity because they're parasites. I have a few of those. I also have a few true friends who I know love me. I don't really show them that I feel the same way. How am I supposed to when the only love I was taught was to allow myself to be violated? They get so disgusted by the thought of that ever happening to someone, and yet here I am. Living proof that there are disgusting people out there who get drunk and regal you on their filthy, horrid thoughts that they have of you.

Let's move off of that retched topic shall we? My apologies if this seems a bit challenging to read, but I am just writing my thoughts. If that was a crime, then I would've been embraced by sweet death a long time ago. That's all for now, but I'm sure I'll have to write more soon, lest I end myself to escape my mind.