A liar, slut, bitch, annoyance, fat, OBESE, crack head, a lesbian, bisexual, experimenter, dirty, insane, and most of all, a failure.
I don't know how much longer i can take fighting to be perfect all the fucking time and never making progress. Every single time i forget who I am, society decides to classify me. I MUST be all those things because I MUST have a title. There must be a way to catagorize me amongst the masses.
Individuality is dead. We all fight to be the exact same fucking person. The girl or guy who has it all. We all envy the head bitch whose out 'living their life to the fullest' but, in reality the head bitch is looking at someone else with green eyes. 'Be yourself, thats all you can be' those fucked up self help books preach. What happens when you hate the person in the mirror? The person whispering softly in your head that you're nothing, just another generic crying to be the head bitch? Not just a head bitch, THE fucking head bitch. My girlfriend can't stand the woman in the mirror and that kills me, i envied the apparent love she had for her body, i craved to be so free. Meanwhile, she's out running everyday trying to achieve my starved, ravaged look. I am no longer sober. I am a cocaine addict, an anorexic, and a disappointment. I am no longer the little girl mommy was so proud of and daddy wanted nothing to do with. Tables have turned and sides have flipped.
One day I will be free. Free of the confines this cage has reduced me to. This rib cage, the metaphorical bird cage trapping my soul within my caving chest. locking out all forms of substinance until the fucking iron door can be ripped from the hinges. I no longer feel i can't be saved from my diseases. I no longer feel i am beyond recovery. I have come to terms that i am not hopeless, i just don't have hope or ambition. I'll die with my labels.
