There is something quite liberating about depression, who would have thought it?
I no longer care about what anyone thinks of me, fuck them all.
Words that I would usually soften or lies I would tell to avoid hurting your feelings is no longer a worry, I say what I mean and you just have to deal with it.
I catch you looking at me and I’m straight out with it, what are you looking at? What do you want? Rather than festering for hours about it.
Get to the fucking point. Say what you mean. I haven’t got time to listen to you beating around the bush. Gabbling on like I’ve got nothing better to do. Spit it out. Like I care anyway.
Problem after problem. Always a negative solution. If that’s how you feel then sorry for you. I don’t want your problems to be mine. Get away.
Depression is a brilliant writer. So deep and imaginative.
I’ve heard you can become addicted to anxiety and depression. Sometimes I enjoy it so maybe I am.
Don’t judge me, just turn away, let me be, I want to do as I please for once. Not always doing what everyone else wants.
It sounds so childish but let it out, let it go. Feelings are raw and impulsive.
I can be a dickhead and today I am.
ramblingrachblog 