rent

What do you do when happiness becomes as similar to anger as sadness is as similar to boredom? You can't distinguish black from white, a hyphen from a cross. It feels like going to hell and coming back to something even worse, unimaginably bad. The height scares you, but what's even more terrifying is not knowing whether you're at the edge, about to fall, or standing below, with no rope to climb up. No one around you but your own little past self gently reminding you that you're not this stupid. All this while something else prompts you to jump. fall. crash. burn. crash&burn. There isn't anyone, they're not here, they're busy fighting their own demons while you lose. You lose and you wait for them to come after you, swallow you whole. And they'll take every micro-inch of you. They don't care, you're not worth it. You cry and scream and kick and beg but no, you're in a vacuum. You can't be heard. You don't want to be heard. You hate the attention. You hate the pity. You hate the help.

..because in the end, you're silently enjoying every single fucking pain life throws at you. You freaking masochist.