my life began the day I looked at a greasy computer monitor and a keyboard covered in fagends and said
y'know it’s pretty fucking obvious that living like this isn’t making me happy
i’ve always known deep down it was unsustainable but i think i’ve finally wrung the last drops of masochistic bliss out of being a waster
this used to be enough, now it’s not
and that’s ok
i remember when i used to be happy and it was pretty cool
i had a lot to lose back then
i’d like to be happy again, i think
i know getting there is going to be so damn hard and i will cry and i will relapse and i will fail in a hundred tiny ways every day and hate myself for it but I’m going to do it anyway because i don’t want to live like this any more
because it just doesn’t make me happy
there are no guarantees here but there’s still some fight left in this scrawny fucker
i hope