There is a specific kind of exhaustion that belongs to those who have spent years just trying to survive.
It’s not the kind of tired that can be fixed by a good night’s sleep. It’s a deep, cellular fatigue born from keeping your guard up for too long, from navigating storms you never asked for, and from carrying weights that were never yours to bear.
If you are reading this and you know exactly what that weight feels like—if your past contains chapters of trauma, loss, betrayal, or systemic hardship—this is for you. This is for all of us who are trying to learn how to live, not just exist.
im sorry, sorry to be the problem, sorry, sorry i still exist, sorry,
Im sorry i survived , sorry.
What did i do? just tell me.
beign the problem is ok. yes i hate myself, and do i care?
No , no one never did. No one will ever care. atleast not about me.
don't yall get the fk tips. Doesnt it all make sense?!
but now i finally noticed.
Its not me , but its the people behind me.
No 'ones perfect and i get it. No one will ever be enough. But this isnt a book. this is realty.
Realty where i need to escape from.
all this.
yall dont even deserve me as a fk "friend"
Just know one day il never open my eyes again, il never wake up. Im left.
And then don't come cry to me, doign like u loved me. Cause ik, ik you never did.
And im getting sick of it. sick of me. this people and this world.
sick of always beign the fk problem. sick of beign the drama again.
just so yk.
you'll never know when its my last breath