these words are not intended for reading.
i’m depressed. plain and simple. it’s not a disease, to be cured by a pill, or scrutinized and labeled. it’s a state of mind that i’ve built for myself, slathered by mistakes, plastered with my faults. i remember slitting my wrists with scissors and razors and anything with a point, to see if it would release emotions like the hushed whispers said they did. bull shit....