I find myself becoming more jealous as I get older. I find it hard to be happy for others when I'm so horridly miserable myself. I used to be good at things, really good at things...and I just let my talents fall by the wayside because I either wasn't in the spotlight enough or I was in the spotlight too much (it's a catch 22 I assure you). I stopped caring and for that I hate myself. I hate hearing about other peoples incredible lives because mine is so meaningless and uneventful. I hate waking up because I feel like it's another opportunity for me to let someone else down, more specifically...members of my family. I hate being alone because it means theres more uninterrupted time for me to be alone in my head. I'm ready to bathe and become new...however, that's not always the outcome.
Let's get fucked up and die,
I am speaking figuratively of course.
Like the last time that I committed suicide,
Social suicide.
- Motion City Soundtrack
XOXO - Maxine
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