i hate you. i really do.

waste of space

do you ever feel totally useless?

like, what the hell is my purpose? i’m not amazing at anything. i’m not good enough at anything to have the confidence to show it off. Photography? Amateur. Guitar? HA. Drawing? I can doodle pretty well. Singing? sure, nicely, but solo material? no. Dancing? epic fail.

I’m a Jack of All Trades, which ticks me off. i want to be amazing at something, just one thing. but no, i’m just average with everything, i’m sick of being average.

but then again, i have no one to blame but myself. i can never give anything my 100% because i don't have the attention span, or motivation for it. i don't care, and it's killing me.

about to pop

nothing sucks more than holding feelings inside. i can't do it, keeping things in makes me depressed and want to explode with tears. and yet here i am, another night of melancholy silence.