I'm pretty sure I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown, and I don't think anybody fucking cares...maybe not even me.
I can't do the thing anymore where I pretend like all these friendships that don't suit me are working. It's not me, and it's driving me fucking insane.
If the truth about cats and dogs is that I am too demanding and too loud and too sensitive and care too much and want too much and don't fit in and am a hostile, childish, immature, nocomformist, then so be it. All I know is that whatever is going on, doesn't fucking work. I don't really know how to walk away, but I'm just gonna. I believe it involves shutting off my phone all the time.
And also, the end of this diary. Come on, who fucking cares? If you know me, you can find me. You can talk to me. I still exist.
So dramatic is this new layout.