Home alone.

Sometimes I wish I knew how to not derail emotionally. How to -always- think before speaking. How to pay more attention to possible consequences.

I’m hungry but too tired to fix anything to eat.

I’m sore but too tired to get into a hot shower for a soak.

I’m tired but too tired to climb into my bed.

I’m a whiny bitch but too tired to care.

Today didn’t start out as a shitty day, but it sure turned into one, and only thanks to yours fucking truly. And here I am reveling in it instead of trying to change my outlook.

I like the fact that I’m home alone. I suppose that’s because I don’t like it when people see me this way, all agitated. Mostly because I don’t want them mucking about in my business. I don’t want to have to explain it to anyone. You may think you want to care about me, missy, but if you really knew what you were asking for, you wouldn’t want it so much anymore. Trust me on that one.

I act like I’m so fucked up. What the fuck is wrong with me. I suppose from a standpoint within my faith, I am pretty fucked up. But compared to the real world…I’m just a big crybaby.

Fuck this. I’m done.

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