Every... damn... day...

When will this vicious circle end? When will I stop punishing myself and feeling bad for my own delusions? I can't make it if I stay so obsessed. WHY AM I SO OBSESSED?!

I can't stop. I can't stop thinking about it... oh god why won't this stop?



Such a worthless, crazy piece of shit.

Climbing up the slippery rope

Big dreams.

What are they? We all probably have one. Some want fortune, others fame, some want peace, for some it's power.

But what is the reason? Is it because we want to matter? Or is it there just for the sake of dominance. To show our superiority to the others around us.

Behind our big dreams we hide our secrets, our darkness, our fears.

Here you go

To tell the truth, I don't hate him only because he treats you like shit.

Mostly I hate him because he got to you first.

I know I'm better than him. Yes we're different in so many ways but...

...I don't know... You'll never love me as much as I love you.

Show me if you care... please show me...

G

how could I know you care about me as much as I do for you?

Dirty mirror

I don't recognize myself anymore.

Marvin (part 3)

Marvin was dying.

He contemplated the inevitability of this reality and then went back to his masturbation. After he was done, he checked his email. He got an email from one of his friends that had random emotional pictures. One of them was of an old man lying in a hospital bed with tubes running through his nose holding a small child in his arms.

Marvin stared at the picture for a few seconds before suddenly bursting into tears. He couldn't stop crying. Something felt wrong in his head. Everything felt wrong in his head.

2 hours later a rolled a joint and smoked it all by himself. He went to the kitchen. There was the sound of a distant water pipe running behind the walls. He thought about the girl upstairs taking a shower, all naked. He didn't feel any kind of emotion. He called himself a retard and went back to his room without doing anything in particular in the kitchen.

Marvin hates listening to the neighbor's bass blasting on his walls. He tried to recognize the song they're listening to. He couldn't. This made him even more angry because he couldn't sing along with it and that just made it an annoying vibration on his wall.

Sometimes he considered pouring a tank of fuel under their door and setting it on fire. But that would just result in his own room also catching a fire. Not good. Knives and guns also seemed like too much trouble. It was either this or knocking on their door and asking them to please turn it down.

Marvin needed a good pair of headphones. 

Worms! Worms! Worms!

The identity crisis... and the sickness of self-pity.