Karma is fucking real and it’s trying to kill me.
I can’t do this. I can’t do this.
I fucking love being mean to people. But only when they deserve it. Like if they’ve actually wronged me, and I can just tell them all the reasons why, that’s so satisfying. I do it with vigour.
Think maybe I’m calling this. It’s apparent there’s no time for me.
Clearly not important enough.
Day number 2 of doing nothing at all.
This is so good. So good. No sarcasm.
I’ve been in my PJ’s for roughly 48 hours.
I’ve slept 10 hours both nights.
Yesterday I cut my hair for no reason.
I might go for a walk.
And then I knew what I had to do.
I feel better now.
Just… Generally lonely.
I know this is the right thing to do but…
Man I miss having someone…