“ It wasn’t my day. My week. My month. My year. My life. ”
by Charles Bukowski

(Source: mishtara, via m3ntally-ill)

Maybe its not all his fault. Maybe its just that all of the stress from everything is hitting me now.. like it does every once in a while. I can only pretend to be strong for so long. Pretend like everything is okay.. pretend like I wasn’t screwed over by everyone around me. Everyone that I naively loved and trusted. Its just weeks like this that make me think too much. Make me freak out and hurt. Fuck everyone man. I just want to run away and start brand fuckin new with all new faces. If I easily could I fucking would.

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