nay

 pathetic how I'm dying to be told I make somebody happy

I've been prodding my ulcer with my tongue for days now. It hurts like hell but I can't help myself. I think we humans are all self-mutilating creatures like that. We beg to be hurt. We want to be damaged and broken so we can whine about it to the next person who seems to care before we get hurt by them again. Vicious cycle, I welcome you with open arms. 

Apart from overindulging in self-deprecation, I've been spending a lot of time having internal monologues with myself as to why I am feeling such unadulterated fatigue and loathing towards everything. I find myself completely drained and heading to bed before 12, and considering I have yet to complete my assignments it is an unthinkable option and time for a JC student. It is in bed where I lay just running through the most minuscule and redundant of anxieties and details in my mind - which has been the perfect playground for doubts and negativity and darkness to fester. 

Maybe this is me sucking at handling my stress, maybe this is me sucking at balancing my time, maybe it is the time of the month and excessive estrogen is getting me cranky, maybe this is my loneliness manifesting, maybe it's all in my head.

It probably is and I am once again dramatizing every single thing that is meant to be kept simple; peripheral. 

I just cannot help but wonder what I'm doing wrong.

I want to get new ink so desperately but I know this cannot be a reckless, misinformed lapse in judgement because unlike everything else, it will be permanent. 

Like all good fruit the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin. Somewhere, someday.

Got a follow from this band, checked them out and fell in love very alarmingly quickly.