Don't get me wrong, I love Michael Webb to the end of eternity and all the stars moons planets asteroids and quasars, along with all other beautiful random things in the universe. But. Getting so trashed so often? Love, what ever's the matter? I have worried my fucking beans out for days and days, but never can ask you what's wrong. Christ you give me a fucking headache. You're the only person I've loved and do love this much. Please.. Take care of me too?
I still feel depressed and a little suicidal, and I still can't explain why. The more I get cravings to cut myself, the more I feel there's no point. I'm so fucking hurt still, it's so obvious I need to get some help (to me at least). Life disappears infront of me. Breathe? Asphyxiate.
About Me
- ChemiKaze
- Some bizarre amalgamation of a trillion different colours and half as many resonant notes has come together to create me. I'm short of both temper and stature, vegan, not so bad at cooking, a heavy drinker, a chemical craver, and stronger than you.
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