WELL FUCK YOU TOO
AND YOUR FUCKING PITY PARTY
I WANNA JUST SIT HERE AND CROCHET
AND YOU GOTTA THROW A FUCKING PITY PARTY JUST LIKE EVER OTHER FUCKING NIGHT AND ALL I WANNA DO IS PUNCH YOU IN YOUR FACE AND TELL YOU TO SHUT THE FUCK UP AND ENJOY THE FUCKING SUNSHINE
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My roommate is really fucking annoying, every other night, I’m not pretty I’m too ugly, I’m gonna kill myself. No. YOU DON’T SAY THAT. YOU NEVER SAY THAT. It hurts my heart, it hurts my head, and I have to sit here and pretend you don’t mean shit. I have to ignore you. I have to ignore your damn selfish bitchy pity party while all I wanna do is start sobbing because you dig up unwanted feelings in myself, and I DO NOT WANT TO VISIT THEM. I try FUCKING hard to be happy, to not dwell, to fall asleep each night with a seamlessly happy thought so when I wake up I don’t want to crawl in a hole and never see the light of day. But no, your just a selfish bitch who wants to attract all the attention and be constantly surrounded by love and affection, and no worries I will never care, never care about that, I’ve learned to deal with my loneliness, with my problems, but hearing you. Hearing you cry and wail, and sob and bawl and just fucking mess with my head is tearing me apart, and I can’t take it I can’t take it. Tonight when I lay in my bed crying and you ask me whats wrong, you better hope I don’t fucking throw my shoe at your fucking face.
GODFUCKINGDAMNIT when you’re normal, when you smile and crack jokes you’re ok, you’re so ok. But no, you know that you can have all this attention if you just sniffle. Yes you have problems, yes you have a therapist and pills and anxiety, and yes you do need help. But its fucking ridiculuos that you still, you still need to complain about your life like its the worst thing in the world.
SO YES HANNAH. I AM FUCKING ANGRY. AND YES. I WON’T SAY I AM OR TELL YOU HOW MAD AND SAD YOU MAKE ME.
But the worst part, the god worst fucking part? I’m not angry. Because I am incapable of anger. I’m just sad, so fucking sad. I don’t get angry Hannah. I get sad. So sad. And I don’t have anyone to tell that too. Because I don’t like to feel this way, and you for some reason do. And I fucking hate you for that.
Rant over, I’ll be better tomorrow.
