Broken Dreams are Breaking Me
I can't escape these feelings of despair. I try my absolute hardest and it feels like despite my efforts, everything is falling apart. I feel so unwelcome in my on life that its not even funny. The days spent feeling sick are becoming more and more frequent once again and all I can see are dark clouds on the horizon.
I don't even know why I begin to bother with friendships when they don't want to bother with me. And social media? Whats even the true worth of it all? Nothing. Nothing. If there was a state of being that was less than nothing, that would describe not only me but the worth of social media.
I signed up to connect with people and make friendships outside myself and I'm greeted with nothing more than the scum of the Earth where I'm used and abused. I didn't sign up to be alienated from my so called mates and be reminded that I don't matter. I've gotten this for the majority of my life and just can't do it anymore. So, thank you, for making me feel more alone and worthless. I hope all of you are proud and pleased with yourselves for what you've done to me.
I don't even want to write anymore, something that I've loved for over half my life. Even my travels, which I've been doing roughly the past ten years all seem like empty, hollow endevours. I feel as if I shouldn't even make the effort because I can't deal with the fallout anymore.
I don't even know why I begin to bother with friendships when they don't want to bother with me. And social media? Whats even the true worth of it all? Nothing. Nothing. If there was a state of being that was less than nothing, that would describe not only me but the worth of social media.
I signed up to connect with people and make friendships outside myself and I'm greeted with nothing more than the scum of the Earth where I'm used and abused. I didn't sign up to be alienated from my so called mates and be reminded that I don't matter. I've gotten this for the majority of my life and just can't do it anymore. So, thank you, for making me feel more alone and worthless. I hope all of you are proud and pleased with yourselves for what you've done to me.
I don't even want to write anymore, something that I've loved for over half my life. Even my travels, which I've been doing roughly the past ten years all seem like empty, hollow endevours. I feel as if I shouldn't even make the effort because I can't deal with the fallout anymore.
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