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mother fucker!

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i feel it all going away, i closed my eyes and my youth is gone and i am old now, with nothing to my name, my shadow being my only company. my dreams get darker by the day, the crevice where my soul should be gets emptier and more hollow. but in my darkest times, memories of people i consider family at one point in my life crosses my mind and before my heart breaks everything seemed okay for that couple of minutes, and then reality sets in. and everything comes into focus how do you go on and pretend everything's okay when you know deep down inside that it's better off dying than to be alone. i have been alone for so long that i find myself actively avoiding everyone even though i want to be around people that want me to be around but that does not exist. everyone leaves eventually and i hate that it's still painful whenever it comes to mind, people i consider friends and family ghosting and eventually i am alone. Maybe that's how my life is supposed to end up, tired an...
There is only one way i make it through this shithole of an existance and i know i'm not gonna get it. Maybe it's a good thing that things don't work out for me in this life, but it does suck when every day is so hard to get through. Yeah i get, get over it dude. there are people who are worse off and shit, but i am not them. I have pretended to be someone i'm not for so long, amongst people who actually don't give a fuck if i'm still here or not.  What's real at this point, what's things song and dance i pretend to do, day in day out, at this point. What's the point in it all ya know. Maybe i'm just bitter, maybe i'm being a bitch. I know things can be worse like being broke broke or not having anywhere to sleep, maybe i should be grateful of the little things in life, see the good and shit.
it's more than depressing when i find myself stuck in conversations with peers and motherfuckers who are talking about buying cars that are like half a mill and i am here thinking to myself if i can afford dinner tonight. but i pretend and laugh with them and talk out of my ass as if i knew what the fuck was going on, then after the forced conversations i find myself tracking back how much i just spent on rent alone for the past 15 years and i sink further into depression and i fall again into pit of darkness where my depression awaits i am sick and tired of being a broke ass bitch, and i can't help to feel nothing but anger for the people that pretended to love and care but fucked me over when all i needed was them. this is why i hate to write all this shit down cos i will start crying like a little bitch, i wish i can and knew how to get over this. i'm too damn grown to be breaking down all the time.