honesty with a disease



Well-known member
Oct 21, 2014
I don't want sympathy...

I doubt I even want empathy.

I don't want anyone to say or write anything.

I am alone... I have been alone on purpose

some people talk about violence.

I have had endless fights with the police I was in the street and they were there too...

the cops are always there they put me down and they hurt.

I have to ask myself ...what the fuck is wrong with me

I nearly killed my dog for fucks sake...

I made probably the calmest phone call of my life.

..please come and save him the little fella.

and they did and I will never forget the way he whimpered and tried to look at me in the eyes... but my eyes were dead but not too far gone to save him.

yes I am capable of murder and hurt... BUT?... I am stuck with it.

my bipolar takes me too unlucky awesome and disaster...

all that is left?...

is complete shame and utter distaste for myself...

and why the fuck should I continue?

all I want to do is make up for all the pain I have caused...

and I am running out of time
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