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Cottage with Trees 1885

Vincent van Gogh

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by  Evija

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Naked Woman With Dripping Hair 1902

Pablo Picasso

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Wheat Fields With Stacks 1888

Vincent van Gogh

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Life

It’s funny, life. It’s full of surprises, nice things, beautiful places and happiness. But it’s also full of shitty things. It’s a bullshit thing really. There’s bullshit liars, bullshit places, bullshit confessions and literate bull shit. You can be happy and careless one day and depressing shit hits you just like that and you see the world in grey. It’s a constant colour-grey-colour-grey-colour-grey scenario. Guess we can mention depression now, what a shitty word. Like fuck depression, y'know? Eat dick depression. I’m sick of being depressed, especially when I don’t want to be. I’m at my cousin’s first birthday, my mind is like “so what, nobody likes you”. Like fuck off and let me be at peace for once, shit. All this bullshit and that’s only about 1% of this shitty life. There are bills, kids, pets, and a “significant other” to take your money that you earned doing great at a shitty job. Life isn’t fair, it’s one big fucking shit-show. I kind of understand those who couldn’t battle their own fucking demons and ended it, but what they get in return is being called a coward or a fucking idiot because they’d rather see nothing but darkness or go to an even more beautiful world than live through the rest of their bullshit lives. If that’s idiotic or cowardice, sign me up! I don’t understand how that’s idiotic, cowardice, or selfish. Like, mind your own fucking business you mean stuck up lady that always gives me shit. Fuck. You know, this is one in millions and millions of problems people face every day. Those people who live a miserable life every fucking day and haven’t given up, I fucking worship you, because I’m honestly right on the edge of the cliff to my own death. I can’t handle shit, so sometimes I run for that cliff. But there’s always something holding me back on that final leap. Something always keeping me alive for some sick, twisted game of theirs. Fuck it, I worship those brave enough to take that final leap. Those who aren’t afraid of leaving something behind, or something holding them back. They say “bye” and they’re gone in an instant. Or maybe not, maybe they choose to go out slowly. But most think it’s best to burn out than to fade away. See, I’m fading, but it’s not my choice. It’s the shit holding me back from that last leap to my fucking death and that shit does not want to let go. Some days I’m glad it doesn’t, but other days I’m furious at it and take it out on whatever belongs to the hands grabbing any part of me that they can, so they don’t lose me. Now when I think of this, I think of those who wouldn’t want to lose me. But then those who don’t want to lose me sure make it seem like they don’t care whether I die or suffer. Then I run for the cliff again, but I’m still being held back at that final moment and I can’t seem to shake it. It’s like a battle over and over, but it seems to be only in my head. I’m sick of this world, but I’m also in love with it. One day I’m floating, the next I’m drowning, sometimes I’m doing both on and off in the same hour of the day. I’m afraid to grow old, I don’t want to find someone to be with and grow old just to worry about them dying before me. If they die before me, I’ll be living in sadness knowing they’re not here. A lot of shit scares me and it’s okay to be scared but I tell people I’m not afraid of anything. I’m fearless, lie. I’m strong, lie. I don’t need anyone, another fucking lie. I pretend to be a lone wolf, deep down I’m always needing a friend that’ll never be there for me. Why? Because I have trust issues. I don’t have that friend because I don’t trust people. My trust issues are the size of Antarctica. I can’t let anyone in, I’m paranoid and can’t trust someone who will use my weakness against me if we wind up hating each other in the end. It’s bullshit, life is bullshit. People die too, they die and you’re expected to cry then move on. What’s the point of crying over and over again if everyone you come to know will die eventually. There’s no stopping it. I say don’t cry, I say spend time with those you have to hold now before they’re gone to. Death should be a wake up call to love rather than hate because you don’t have that long. Be numb, be adventurous or be fine. Fuck those who hate on you, ignore them, you’re better than to respond to the bullshit. Focus on what makes you okay and you’ll be okay. But then you won’t be, but that’s still okay because you’re okay. I’ll never be okay and that’s fucking okay with me. I say fuck life, it’s shit. I’m done living life but at the same time I’m fucking loving it. Yeah, that’s all honestly, I don’t know how to end this shit so bye.