This is an open apology. I’m sorry for being screwed up. My DNA takes precidence over my will to fight the chemicals inside my brain. I’m a mess. I’m scars. I’m not worth my weight in gold. I feel so empty on days when things should matter. The only thing I’ve got to look forward to is the day when things will stop moving so quickly. I’d give anything for this madness to take a vacation. Or better yet, I need a vacation from my madness. This sadness is defenying. I can no longer make sense of days or weeks. The compass that points my head back to me is spinning and I have no idea how to stop any of this. It’s a slipper slope. They say the age of 25 is when the beginning of the end happens for people like us. I need the light at the end of the tunnel. Regardless of consequence, I’m a disaster zone. This is not a good moment for me. Life until this point has been a series of casulties one following another. You can’t get away from the epicenter of my destruction. I will break everything and everyone down.
It’s not that you couldn’t handle me.
It’s more of not being able to be handled by someone like you.
I’m sorry.
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