Sad how we have to keep ourselves busy to run from the darkness.

And then it happens,that moment when your breath starts to slow and everytime you breath you breath out all the oxygen you have. Everything stops your heart,your lungs and finally your brain. And everything you feel and wish and want to forget it all just sinks and then suddenly...you give it air again. Give it life again

I am just fucking exhausted.

I don’t wanna be alone in the darkness.

This darkness feels like home.

When we cut what do we really want the blade to do for us?

Whatever that is,I crave it.

I don't wanna sleep or talk or cut or cry or heal or fight or wake up or dream or live. I don't wanna breath .I am just fucking tired of everything.

A wild longing for strong emotions and sensations seethes in me, a rage against this toneless, flat, normal and sterile life. I have a mad impulse to smash something, a warehouse, perhaps, or a cathedral, or myself…

—Hermann Hesse, from Steppenwolf

*MAD IMPULSE TO SMASH SOMETHING .........OR MYSELF*

While this anger is clearly visible for the whole world to see I find myself not in my body but as an outsider looking at myself wondering how I got these messed up or where the root of my anger lies.

Even my shrink won't understand how I can't breath out of nowhere...how the fuck am I gonna be able to explain smtn I don't even understand.

I don't know why we need to break so hard.