Isn´t it funny? (in-a-punch-me-in-the-gut-so-I-cant-breath-kinda-way) how just when you think the depression is comming to an end, it raises its ugly head and strikes you down again usually in the form of other peoples words telling me about you.
Two weeks
Berlin
Holiday
Girlfriend.
My horoscope said I shouldn´t make my life public, but hey f**k it if I am not allowed to tell you how much you destroyed me and still do. If I am not allowed to tell you directly how much I hate you for manipulating me to wank your ego better. If I am not allowed to tell all of your friends who think the sun shines out of your arse and who dont know how disgusting you are, neither do you for that matter. then here it is , my pure bile, my hatred, my own personal issues that should stay in the therapist´s office and that people dont´want to know about anymore and that wont be here tomorrow because as soon as I calm down and realise I´ve gone too far I will delete it.
It has to come out and if its not all over the wall that faces your house one drunken night its here. this is my wall.
Some things will never be resolved
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