My Thoughts, Unspoken

You are selfish. You are still so immature— you child. Do your thoughts hover only over how unfair your life is? As if the world owes you something?

Why don’t you try to step away from your self-pity for a moment? Maybe then you won’t be so damn miserable all the time.

It doesn’t matter how much you trust them, or love them, or they, you. They still have it in them to abandon you and all it takes is the proper incentive. I believe people are naturally selfish and that they only stick around as long as you give them what they want, whatever that may be.

I don’t want to keep being friends with a person who wants me to change who I am for him. Umm…no. Sorry. Not gunna happen. I can compromise on certain things; I’m willing to do that. I can understand if he wants me to be nicer (I have a pretty abrasive sense of humor) and if he wants more…emotional support—- whatever; I can do that. But it’s not like I’m here solely to appease him. 

It’s unfair of him to expect so much of his friends—- to hold them up to such high standards that he himself cannot even reach. It’s stupid and selfish of him to think that all of us need to change to accommodate his views on how a good friend should act towards him and yet he doesn’t even stop to evaluate the way he’s acting and how that comes across to everyone else. A compromise goes both ways; if I am to change something about myself, I expect him to be willing to do the same.

fleshscars:

I’m a huge loser, and I never take risks or leave my house much because I’m afraid of everything. And it kind of sucks. I screw myself over just because I’m scared of life.

I’d like to live a life of almost complete solitude, with people only in the background. I’d see them and hear them but I wouldn’t interact with them. Then no one would piss me off or stress me out and I can be happy with my own company.

slatercombes:

You don’t have wanderlust, you’re just a sheltered suburb teenager.

I guess she died.

It’s horrifying.

I hate the world today. I just want to drown myself in the distraction of a book.