Happiness is subjective.
I don’t know if I am or if I’ve convinced myself that I am.
I only know when I am not.

That’s a lot of the time.
I don’t know what it is that’s giving me this doubt and loathing.
I only know that it comes in waves and drowns me.

I don’t know what to do.

This was meant to be a lot longer.

0 notes / 2 months ago / reblog

Strange, that the last I wrote here was a year and one day ago exactly.
I have nothing to say right now and no one to say it to, regardless of who thinks or says that they’re here for me.
I am, for all intents and purposes, alone.
I do not like it one bit.
I’ve been good, but this is a dangerous scenario.
Being left alone with only my mind for company.

0 notes / 6 months ago / reblog

Last night I worked my brain to the bone and all I could do was cry. I couldn’t help it. The tears just kept falling and then, for the first time in months, I broke.
I hope this isn’t a spiral. I need for everythjng to be better.

0 notes / 1 year ago / reblog

Blogging every day is hurting me.
Writing about love today has hurt me. I don’t know how to actually put into words the way that I feel. I don’t know how to do it. And that confuses and hurts me.
I’m supposed to be able to describe this. If I can’t describe it, is it even real?
Of course it’s real. I can feel it. It feels. I don’t know.

I finally feel like I have purpose and I just can’t explain why, but there’s just something about that boy that gives me hope and reason. 

0 notes / 1 year ago / reblog

It’s been a long time. The world is melting. I am melting.
I legitimately feel like my eyeballs are melting, that’s what time it is. Summer time.
It’s my birthday this weekend and I feel like it’s time I figure my shit out.
But haven’t I already?

I don’t really know anymore.
It’s coming to that time of year when people I’m not friends with wish me well for a day that doesn’t mean that much more than the rest of them. I get it, I’m guilty of this too. I wish people who are almost strangers fond tidings on their birthdays. My friends within our social circle get some sort of witty spin, referencing vagina escapes and uterus outbreaks. But it’s always the same. They either just say thanks, or they ignore it.
Most people I don’t even say anything to.
But every year, without fail, people I don’t even talk to, will say Happy Birthday.
I am still tossing up as to whether or not I want them to.

I am still tossing up about a lot.

0 notes / 1 year ago / reblog

I keep writing long winded passages about things that I think and feel and then delete them and I don’t know why.

0 notes / 1 year ago / reblog

That’s twice in the last week that I have realised that I have failed something.
I never fail.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me, or left me, in the past week. I don’t know what it is, but it stinks of mediocrity. My new natural scent.
Me. Dee. Oh. Crit. Ee.

Mediocre at the best of times.
My standards have slipped and I appear to be in a downward spiral.
Everything I have touched recently has turned to shit.

None of this would have happened if people actually liked me.
But I have to let people close in order for them to like me. And when I do that, they just hurt me.
I’m sick of being hurt.
But this hurts more than that hurts.
Erin Kelly.
These words were once antonyms and now they’re one in the same.
I can’t do this anymore. I don’t know why I bother putting in effort. It never amounts to anything.
The only time it does amount to something, it’s never appreciated enough to warrant further attempts.
People always appreciate things once they stop receiving them.
Or they appreciate the things that never eventuated.
It’s always the thought, or afterthought that counts.

This isn’t to suggest that I am any different from the rest.
I’m far from different. Which is probably why no one likes me.

Occasionally the fact that nobody likes me will cut deeper than usual.
Most of the time I can just laugh it off as ‘their loss’.
But what about the times that it’s not their loss, but mine? What about the times that people have simply gotten sick of me?
What about the times when I’ve pretended not to care, but on the inside I was breaking because I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever been close to?
What about how broken I am when I realise that if the person I need the most leaves me, I’ll be literally left with absolutely nothing?

I’ve let people slip through my fingers like grains of sand, thinking they’re not important, thinking that it’s okay because I had more important and closer people to deal with.
But did I really?
I can count on two fingers, the amount of people I feel would class me as a friend.
One of them doesn’t count because he’s my boyfriend.

I’ve literally got two people out of the whole world to depend on.
That should be comforting because they’re the two best people I’ve ever met.
But all the previous best people I’ve ever met have moved on, and I talk to none of them anymore. Ever.
The idea of this happening again gives me the shakes. I feel sick.
That’s nothing new. I’ve been living in a permanent state of nausea for the last month.

I’m not feeling very well at the moment. 
I should just… Stop. 

0 notes / 1 year ago / reblog

I just typed over 1000 words of my feelings and deleted them.
That’s what kind of day this is. 

0 notes / 1 year ago / reblog


I want to be with you, today of all days.
I want to hold you and kiss you, today of all days.
I want to catch your eye for a second from across the way, today of all days.
I want to fall asleep in your arms, today of all days.
I can’t do any of those things, today of all days.
I took the fact that you were constantly within arms reach for the last fortnight for granted. I knew, in the back of my mind, that we were going to have to be away from each other for a while again. I know, in my heart, that absence makes it grow fonder, but I don’t see how that’s possible when the concept and reality of being without you has broken me. I don’t sleep properly now. We both know that.
I’m too afraid to fall into the terrors that grip me when I don’t have you beside me in slumber.
You’ve become my strength; everything I do well, every time I resist temptations and urges, every time I look in the mirror and tell myself that I’m beautiful, I’m not just doing it for me. I’m doing it for you.
I’d become so used to putting everyone ahead of myself, but you’ve made me realise that it’s often unhealthy. With you, I have learnt that it’s perfectly okay to worry about myself sometimes. With you, I’ve come to terms with the fact that I should only put someone else’s well being ahead of my own if they’re willing to do the same for me.
You’re the only person I’ve ever known that has done so completely without question.
This is just one of the infinite reasons why I love you. 

1 notes / 1 year ago / reblog

I’ve been thinking that I need to start pressing words again. I’ve been thinking this for so long and it hasn’t become a reality. I’m really disappointed by this fact.

0 notes / 1 year ago / reblog