Here’s me. Again. Between the edge of success and the edge of constant self-disappointment. I enter in such a commodity that I don’t want to get out of there even though it’s full of pain and disaster.
I exaggerate a lot. I suffocate people and forget about them. The only thing that’s constant to me is my imbalance. I f*** things around. I hate my room and I feel like this place is making me stay like this.
Still, I am too unwilling to change something because a part of me tells me that I have the right to suffer and be angry due to some (non)existent reasons.
I really don’t know what to do.
There are two of me inside.
As you can see, it’s always about me. I always the one that causes most of my personal problems. In the end, I am the one to blame.