I don’t think they care anymore. I’m so fucking tired and I’m always angry at something and I just get so fucking sad and my parent just “sedates” the suicidal thoughts with concert tickets and shopping trips and new, shiny things. It sedates it, sure, but now I just want to die even more with the guilt of it all on my shoulders. I’ll go to the concert and wait for the best of fall to come. Then I’ll lay dying on fallen leaves with music floating into a dying corpse from earbuds. Then I will be happy and they’ll finally notice.
other6 felt this