I just can’t give it up!
I’m sick of being so… So… Like me. Stupid, weird, worthless, pathetic, impatient, hyper, angry, paranoid, depressed. I don’t want to feel the emotions anymore.
I’m sick of living here. I am. I talked to my brother over the phone, he’s doing so much better living with his girlfriend. I need to just pick up and go. I hate having an alocholic father, and a mother that just doesn’t care. I come home just to be alone, if I even go out in the first place. I feel so invisable. I’m starting to fall into the same pit of addiction.
The drugs made me feel loved. My parents didn’t love me, but the drugs did. Sounds weird probably, but that’s how I’ve always felt. I didn’t have to try to please the drugs. They accepted me for who I was. They partly made me who I am… 
I’m better off dead. I really am. I don’t think anyone would really notice me gone. I think they’d get over it quite fast.
I have so many skeletons in my closet. I’m afraid they’ll get out. I can hear them speak to me. It’s scary, disturbing, but somehow I’m not sorry. I just want to bury my darkest secrets. But I hear them calling. 
I’m starting to hallucinate again. I’m getting paranoid. I feel like everyone’s laughing at my demise. I’ve been looking through old photographs of my life. It looks a lot like me, or who I used to be. But it’s not me anymore.
I just feel so… Not here. Gone.
But like I always say…
That’s okay. 
xx.
I wish that I new the words that might be a comfort or help to you.
I hope you feel better one day.
xx Jac.
Moe, i feel for u.. i know what its like to have them skeletons.. the drugs will free u from pain, but dont get addicted to them.. they can only help temporary.. i dont want to see u go that route.. people care about u… i do.. even though i might not even know what u look like or know u too see u.. but i care.. i hope the pain passes so, you could be a happy person again.. hang in there… your worth it.. always remember that..
Don”t you believe those drugs. I tried a bunch of them cause, at first, I was looking for some answers, then I was a running buddy of a guy who knew where all the hook ups were and he was using them to lure girls who like doing drugs. I never got laid that way, so I started doing the drugs for the sake of doing the drugs. I would end up in bad situations with bad people and my running buddy would start off telling me what a great time we had- I could never remember, I guess I black it out. we had a great time until I did this or that embarrassing thing and by the way these people would like you to know they never want you coming around again if you please. Super embarrassed and ashamed about stuff i couldn”t even remember. How fun is that. You ”wake up” broke, wondering if anybody did anything to you you wouldn”t like in your right mind, and me, personally, I always felt like my soul was ripped out if I had one in the first place. After the drugs wring the life out of me I would be walking halfway across town like a zombie and hating the skin I”m in, the air in my lungs, and the light in my eyes just for the starters. I still have this core of hatred in me for everyone and everything that wasn”t there before the drugs that I have to debate with before I can appreciate things I loved before and found solace in. It”s like they stole my ability to see beauty in things, wonder in things, unless i”m high on something first, but the high goes by so fast. Can”t afford it anymore. If I hate things any more than I do now, I shudder to think how I”ll go on living. So I”m hiding from my ”buddies” right now to give my system some time to kinda reset, to see sunlight as beautiful again, music as inspiring and not as torture, friends as company and not demons… etc. Drugs are thieves that steal your sensations and then sell them back to you, cheap, used and abused. don”t listen to them