i don’t want to kill myself, but i just don’t want to be on this earth. i don’t like living, not because of the conditions but because of myself. i love my life. i hate myself. i treat my life horribly and i know i’m just never going to change. change is hard. people can’t change, they learn. i just feel so useless in this world. music is my escape. i don’t make the music, i listen to it. i’m not really good at anything. nothing fits me. i’m always doing something wrong. i still remember in sixth grade when this boy made me uncomfortable. he went up in my personal space. i gave him a look. maybe it was on accident? he kept doing it. going super close to me. i didn’t like it so i just moved to the back of the line. then, he did it again. this time i gave him another look. i turned around giving him a “menacing” look. he fucking pinched me and told me something. i didn’t even know what he said. some of his friends sat across from my lunch table. i asked them why he did that to me because i knew damn well his friends saw him. i couldn’t put together what they said but it sounded like a horrible excuse. finally, it happened a third time. this time i yelled at him. i told him to stop. he was lucky that’s all i did. i should’ve kicked him in the balls. he put his hands up and said he didn’t do anything. but he did. i witnessed him doing what he did to me to another girl. she was uncomfortable too. and he did it to my friend, to the point where he even grabbed her hips. i’m truly disgusted and i still regret nothing speaking up. but, if there was anything i would do, i would curl up in a ball- or more likely a comfortable position and just sleep forever. i’ll still be able to breathe, and be alive. but i won’t have to do anything. i wouldn’t even be conscious.

2 years ago

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