misery business

sunday has become my least favorite day of the week. i spend sundays in nervous, anxious, nausea-inducing anticipation of what is sure to be another series of mundane, mind-numbing, self-esteem shattering hours at work/in life.

basically, in terms of "commit or die", i'm straight up perishing.

you know i'm no good

"maybe your life is boring because of you."

i am too transparent.

maybe if i write something honest

maybe if i write something beautiful, i can make someone fall in love with me.

i'm like the ringleader, i call the shots

i was on pause, but i'm about to press play.