Remember who loved you no matter how fucked up in the head you were.
Theres a brief moment when you first wake up, where you have no memories. A blissful blank slate, a happy emptiness.
I think about dying but I don’t want to die. Not even close. In fact my problem is the complete opposite. I want to live, I want to escape. I feel trapped and bored and claustrophobic. There’s so much to see and so much to do but I somehow still find myself doing nothing at all. I’m still here in this metaphorical bubble of existence and I can’t quite figure out what the hell I’m doing or how to get out of it.
I suppose it’s pointless to think of you at all.