My insides feel all thick and gooey. I’m all heaving and tarlike at the same time, and I’m not making any sense, but this is what happens when I try to explain it. I’m sick inside with wanting to cry, and sick with not wanting to cry, and I think I hate myself for both. This isn’t supposed to be happening yet, its only November, but no one else listens to me, so why should I?

I think that if you cut me open, I could finally cry. But I’m also pretty sure no one would have the kindness to actually let me die, so really, what’s the point?