when i started this blog, i had imagined something a bit more curated. then i realized i dont have the mental capacity to tell the stories i wanted to tell. im not in a place where i can tell my stories and give them the voice and meaning they deserve.

nowadays (when i actually have the brain capacity to form cohesive thoughts), this has become my personal, disorganized stream-of-consciousness hot mess that i pass along as a “blog”, just a page of my bullshit rants and endless complaints. its just me, venting to an empty room – no one is watching, no one cares.

for years, i was obsessed with courtney love’s band hole (and yes, til this day i still think she is an ICON) – music to love to, hate to, cry to, laugh to, dream to. courtney hits differently when youre dealing with shit.

“someday you will ache like i ache” –

does anyone else think happiness is temporary? like an fleeting illusion thats never destined to last long. its like when my best friend asks me about whether she should end her upcoming book on a happy or sad poem, and my gut instinct says sad. because not everything has a happy ending.

and the worst part about feeling that happiness never lasts? i have everything. i literally have NOT A FUCKING THING to be complaining about because my life is good? so what the FUCK am i aching for?

and im ashamed. and im guilty, for not appreciating all that i have (not to sound cliche as fuck).

saturday nights are best spent having breakdowns and hiding in the closet to text my twin and choking on my tears because no one else ever seems to understand. and even when im not publicly breaking down, its all overthinking, spiraling with all the chaos thats in my head.

“i want to be the girl with the most cake” –

and i am the girl with the most cake. in the back of my mind, a voice always whispered that one day, when i was the girl with the most cake, i would be happy and happiness would no longer feel like walking on eggshells.

i have a boyfriend with kind eyes (and kind soul), i live in a gorgeous home with four of the closest friends i have and i basically consider family. ive always struggled with being alone and now im never alone; that should have been the cure-all to everything. i have a job that i dont hate (to clarify i dont hate the job, but i may hate a coworker lol), and i have parents that give a shit about me.

and for the record, this was never supposed to be a humble brag. this is just me pointing out that im an ungrateful bitch thats struggling with having consistent happiness or content.

maybe happiness is overrated, were all aching and burnt the fuck out, and life is just a miserable experience we have to learn to just fucking deal with. best not to deal with that alone, although im still struggling to comprehend what is even wrong in the first place.

and now i sit in my bed, writing a post that no one will read but myself, ignoring my boyfriend calling me for dinner because im a petty bitch and quite honestly, a pain in the ass to deal with. i guess ill wait here, playing a one-sided hide-and-seek game and seeing if anyone gives enough fucks about me to come find me.

“i fake it so real, i am beyond fake” –

GFY, fleur

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