real deal

it used to be easier to pretend
just fake a smile
i'm fine
and once is enough

it's constant now
oh i'm so happy so hilarious i've got so many things to say to you add a smiley another one another one another one another one
think of what to say to look happy
cannot care about myself or how i really feel
have to care about you and what you want
have to keep you happy


oh well at least i don't have to lie that i'm fine anymore


cause you don't really care though do you

funny
others don't always seem to get
that
you know yourself better
than they do

what have you been through
or your mind
what runs in it

your heart
and the blood that
should be warm

but runs cold

i'm so sorry for feeling bad
and for wanting you to be there for me

to care

i'm so sorry i give you everything
and ask for a little bit
in return

i didn't mean to be so needy
but i just need you.

fuck everything

slit my wrists
i don't care


i'm gone
without you




oh god
i feel so sick
my eyes are burning
my head
exploding
throw up
to clean myself from the inside


blank

nothing to offer

Thought I was doing good last week, but went back to bad. Just a few remarks from certain people and everything seems worthless again. Why do I even try, I know I will never succeed in being somewhat normal.

I have nothing to offer.

what does it feel like

'What does it feel like to have depression?'

'I'm not depressed.'

'But all the things you write... They're depressing.'

'I'm not depressed. Yes, I have suicidal thoughts, which I do not act on anymore, I'm sad, but it's not depression. Yes, I can't fall asleep at night and then sleep till midday, but I do get up to do stuff like eat and watch my favorite tv series, and so on... I go to work, sometimes to uni. I feel shit, sometimes I feel like shit. Sometimes I laugh, sometimes I cry, like everyone else. I'm not numb. I'm not ill. I'm just more sad than happy.

'Just need someone else to feel less sad.'

not depressed

i look at my veins 
and i wish for them
to be cut.









the worst part is.. it's not a depression.
it's just..
me

filling up

I was trying to fool myself. Pretend I have some kind of a switch, that can turn all my emotions off. Fuck no. I cannot pull off an emotionless bitch act for too long. Too many feelings. Filling up.

Out of it today. Maybe feeling it from the early morning, that's why today I'm filling myself with sweets. And sweet alcohol.

I don't know what to do. I don't know what I want.
Seems the things I get are not enough for me. I want more. I always want more.
But what is more?

Do I want love?

I cannot handle love.




Why did you leave. You were supposed to save me.

blank

It's a good thing no one reads this shit. I can write whatever the fuck I want to. Whether it's actually about me or not. Some random rant. Or confession. Or just a blank page. Just like me. blank.

Who knows maybe I have created a version of myself for the society. For the people that surround me. Different girl for different people.
Of course everyone has their versions.
The most important thing to do is smile.



Maybe I should take control of my life, but I don't think I quite want to. It's so good. To not give a fuck. No expectations to be met. blank.



I fill my emptiness with alcohol, weed, and sex.

Maybe

I depend on others to feel happy. And too often my expectations are just too damn high to be actually met, maybe that's why I can't let myself feel complete happiness. Just don't let myself feel happy.
Weirdly enough, if everything does go well, I have to ruin it. Cause it's better to hurt myself than let others hurt me.

Thought I felt better these last ten or whatever days. Tonight I'm wondering when it's gonna end.

When happiness is dependent on other people.. it doesn't last too long.



 But I like this feeling. A hint of maybe actual happiness. And I'm scared of losing it.
So scared of losing you.

Sleep deprived

Which is weirder - that I turned this blog into kind of a diary or that I am in my uni's reading room about to watch tv series (have two spare hours) and am drinking milk? It feels weird just writing this all in a public place, usually I do it at home or whatever. I wish I could communicate telepathically, I'd like a cup of coffee, but don't want to move from this place. Only slept for like 3-4 hours tonight. I don't know how that happens. Seems that I am always tired after uni and then working until late.. but still can't fall asleep. And then have to get up early in the morning. Insomnia, anxiety.. these are not things to mess around with. It's probably obvious how sleep deprived I am, I don't even make sense. This whole entry is not even coherent or whatever. Jeez, I'm hungry. Gotta drink my milk.

Sentimental shit pt.2

'Sometimes you have to get burned to see the truth.'


You know that feeling of being too much while at the same time not being enough? Well, I do. I carry that feeling around at all times, every single day I'm torn between not being good enough, pretty enough, smart enough, etc. and being too damn clingy, too fucking crazy, too obsessed, too much drama, too much sadness, too much faking. When in reality... I'm not happy, I'm not even fine. I smile because you want me to. You don't really care if I'm happy or not, you don't really care why I'm not smiling, it is so much easier just to fake everything. 'Oh, nothing really, you know, didn't sleep well' with a silly smile following. I got so good at it. Faking. Too much faking. Not good enough to show you the real me.
Don't feel committed to talk to me now, I don't need that. I'm too tired of talking. Yes, tired. Of everything. Of my own bullshit. I wish I was just able to click and be somewhat normal. But I guess it always was a part of me, and can't get it off now. Seven years trying and no actual success.
I see the truth.
So just let me be as I am.
Just let go.
I'm gonna let go.

Sentimental shit

Oh hi hello, I still have a blog, woah.

I don't know what's going on, but I've just been feeling extremely out for like past.. few weeks already, I guess. I honestly have no idea what is going on, maybe my past self is coming back, and that would be just too messed up, hopefully I will control myself and remain somewhat normal.
I think I kinda started writing a diary on paper. I still have this blog, the Lithuanian one which I now rarely ever use and well Tumblr for expressing shit in pics. But I feel the paper one is the best. Paper is always the best. That's why all the e-books will never take me over, I have to feel the paper between my fingers, hear that crunchy sound as I turn the page, and the smell.. some really do not smell good, but I love how unique it is. And well, back to the paper diary.. it's just like writing letters. I always loved paper letters. Shame not many people write them anymore.

And I get to draw in it. And write over the stuff I have already written. And handwriting everything is just.. great.



Turn a random page and write in it.