I thought I had no reason to maintain this blog seeing as how I've been writing and submitting a shitton on deviantART but someone was gracious enough to bring to my attention that my blog is much more raw than my journal there...
I don't like subjecting others to a "forced" view of my shitty life. I feel like every time I press that submit button I make myself more and more of an attention whore.
I found out recently that people actually want to be depressed. Inspiration and sorts or something... Being clinically depressed... I would have to say anyone that thinks they want this is dead wrong.
Every day I go on and I'm not happy for an hour... or two... or even a minute, I feel like I've failed. Being that I am a perfectionist of sorts and EXTREMELY afraid of failure... it only gives me a reason to beat myself up all the more. All the more.
For fuck's sake a cat scratched my hand and I got depressed and wanted to cut because it triggered me... that burning flesh... that ache in my skin. I wanted more. So much more.
I truly am a special brand of fucked up.
And now you're going to watch with eyes wide to see what's left after the fire. <3
