I have destructive tendencies.

I don't care anymore, but I care I don't care. I hate all my inadequacies, all my missed chances and my inability to make use of my dull and uninteresting strengths. I hate my fear of perusing something radically different, my lack of ambition but the fire of competition and self pride that holds me back inexplicably. I hate my immaturity, my desperate requirement for sympathy, attention and compliments. I hate that I can't sing, or play, or achieve what I wish I could. I hate that everyone else can, and have better control of their negative emotions. I feel I'm being left behind by everyone else who is growing up and taking responsibility while I'm living off of my Dad's death money *waves hands spookily*. I want everyone to love me and attend to me, but also for everyone to leave me along.

I want coffee. I want but I can't provide myself with anything. I want some light in the dark. And a purpose, a muse and a reason. I need the sun and blue skies. I need tears. I hate my body and my fitness and I need something to drag me out of this pit. I'm scared to start but I don't know what I'm clutching onto. I don't even have the effort to write lyrics. Just the effort to bum with fury. I have destructive tendencies.