typing out some stress, some anger wanting it to be figments of non real. that this is all just the fuzz behind the registers at work. this is the dust that means nothing at all.
and really, i’m learning i feel. the bad of the bend. the almost breaking, but trying to keep strong to maintain the bend, instead of the break. i wont take the break.
i’m getting stronger in self. i know im pretty. i know my personality is attractive.
i’ll survive. i will. and i wont ever screw up this bad.
i wont ever.