I don’t think I’ve ever tried so hard to just be happy. I’m looking back and trying to figure out when it started feeling like work and like always, it goes back to Brock dying. I feel like I can pin point when everything just SPIRALED and I’m desperately trying to change everything to get just the right combination, you know? Maybe if I get a new job. Maybe my new apartment. Maybe if I decorate. Maybe I need a significant other. Maybe I should lose weight. Maybe I should-. I’ve never just felt like quitting everything like this before. I’m so lethargic and just, floating through life, not really connected, going through the motions. But what’s the alternative? All these people with all their expectations and all their punishments when I don’t reach said expectations and it’s all just too much. I’m so sick of failing in everybody’s eyes. I don’t think anybody has any reason to be proud of me, and that hurts.
I don’t have a ”type”. If I like you, I like you.
And if I like you, you’re pretty special.
Because I hate everyone.