Internet Diary 28#

Okay, I really don’t understand how I’m not allowed to make jokes about how I hate myself. 

Why can’t I try to at least try to find humor in my fucking pathetic existence and what do you mean  I’m actually not retarded. It’s clear that I’m lacking the ability to even grasp conversations, and day by DAY my memory is getting worse whenever I try to remember the simplest of things. 

It should be clear to everyone that the world doesn’t have anything planned for me except that I’m a naturally gifted artist. That’s really all there is to me, my art is the only good thing about me and people don’t understand that. 

They keep telling me I’m nice but in reality I’m a absolute jerk, my brain always says the most stupid, terrible, outta pocket things without a thought and it’s always making people see the worst in me. 

I don’t even have control of my own body 

Maybe because it feels like my body isn’t mine or my brain thinks it’s absolutely disgusting, the human body is absolutely disgusting as much as wild animals bodies are.

I’ll talk about the stuff that got deleted on accident tomorrow.