One scary thing about being happy is that I can’t help but feel like something terrible is going to happen afterwards. The universe goes out of its way to give you a slice of heaven for a price you're not sure you can afford to pay.
I'm rarely happy these days, even though I have so little to complain about. Some things just get to me all the time, crawling under my skin, and I never seem to get over them however hard I try.
Is it always going to be like this? Days spent trying to organize myself so the world will see that I'm fine, and then crying myself to sleep at night?
I don't think I can hold on much longer. The fragments I'm holding on to are starting to break. My will is no longer as strong as it used to be, and I'm tired.
Life's like a repetitive cycle now. Nothing new ever happens. Getting up and getting by seem less and less appealing with time. I'm tired.