need to jerk off but i got paint on my hands

 I can't stop fucking hurting 

    Is that pathetic of me, to not want to feel like an afterthought. Maybe I deserve to be an afterthought, hell I probably deserve to not be a thought at all to you, after every thing that's happened between us. I'll never be able to accept it of course, so I'll just be a burden, a cross to bear, for everyone that's had the misfortune of having me in their life. I'm trapped in this hell of my own creation, I'm sorry for ever having involved you in it.

 I think the closest I've felt to comfort in a while was when I was bleeding profusely while you held me. I haven't achieved that kind of high since then.

 It's crazy how you can go weeks with ignoring me, and I can't even last a day.

 Something in me wants to cry, but the tears won't flow.

I feel disgusting, putrid, rotten.