catastrophe – my life is slipping out of my hands. i feel so close to loss. i feel so endlessly deficient. there is a way to deal with not being good enough, but it has a high price. just sink in every way, leave nothing above ground to snag feelings on, be absolutely at the bottom of the food chain. if you are in misery, real misery, if it’s bad enough that you’re never not thinking about dying, then we will grant you the boon of not being able to afford to measure up. you can throw away opportunities and it won’t matter; fail your loved ones but you knew that would happen.
but the second your despair does not consume you, we are coming back for you with all the demands. we will find the smallest hope and pile weights on, we are doing you a favor. hope means you are accountable. hope is just vulnerability.
we are so small and angry, so endlessly resentful. i swear i won’t let you get me this time, not again, but the need engulfs me and you trap me, trap me, trap me. the more lip service, the less your words mean. it’s no use saying the right things, i will not be disarmed. you feel superior and you are not showing your hand.
we want to give up on all of it, friendship, love, therapy, school, people anywhere. i am not part of you. i’m trapped inside me and i want to, yes, throw it all away. i never had to wonder what that song was about.
if we shut the world out enough, is there a way to return to sanity? there is so much here we wanted to get done. instead we use all our energy on drama, every ounce to keep you from hating us. every one of you, this is not personal. or rather, it is personal to every single other person in the universe.
it’s ok because we hate us, we see everything you could find fault with and more, we know why you’re wary of us. disgusted with us, superior to us. but at least for right now, we have the luxury of despair. we don’t have to fucking care, so just fuck off. fuck the fuck off.
