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to whom it may concern,

i have almost two years of account left. i couldn't leave if i wanted to. there's a huge part of me that does, for reasons that will become semi-apparent towards the end.

i talk to almost no one(that cares), i trust no one, my "real" life is a fucking disaster, for every one good thing that happens, eight bad ones crash around me. i don't do "real" updates, because i'm tired of telling the same fucking shitty stories over and over, my current legal, school, family, psychiatric, romantic, financial, and "friend" situations are totally clusterfucked, and i end up having to say the same shit so many times a day it starts to feel like a script. any time i actually try to talk to anyone about anything real for me, it ends up being a fucking disaster. it makes me want to just keep my fucking mouth shut, for the rest of my life, then i end up choking on everything i need to purge, before i burst at the seams, i'm vibrating at such an intense frequency, that it feels dangerous to do anything, for fear of doing damage to something, anything, that i come in contact with.

all of my sadness, anger, confusion, issues, and insecurities are turning back into a ferocity that lead to horrible incomprehensible things, when i was younger. i'm trying to learn how to love again, i'm trying to get my shit together so i can get myself out of this hole once and for all, and not to play the victim, but it seems like as soon as i've compiled some shit together, that starts to feel like progress, something comes along, and kicks my pile back into a fucking mess, i'm getting a fucking sisyphus complex, and i'm about fucking tired of pushing this goddamn boulder back up the mountain.

i've grown attachments here that i probably shouldn't have, too late, once you're in, you're in, i can't remove you, only you can do that, i can disappear, but you'll live in me forever, the ghosts of everyone i've ever loved sit with me now, as i write this. some of you know how much you mean to me, and some of you, i'm quite sure, have no idea. which is probably better for everyone in the long run. that being said, there are things from my past, that haunt me, daily, and a situation i've gotten myself into here, feels eerily like those heartaches that not only loom on the horizon, but that take up space now, in an already heavy chest full of pangs that resound with silent screams of urgency. no recourse, i have zero control over the way certain things make me feel, and zero chance of changing the situation, save walking away entirely, which consequently, feels no better.

show me someone that has control over their emotions, and i'll show you someone that's full of shit, or capable only of lying themselves into a corner they'll have to come out of, only to find out the shit is really going to hit the fan, when something has been left to simmer that long, condensed into a poison that is nearly impossible to decontaminate.

so much for goodbyes, when no matter where you go, there you are.

here i am.

i'll be around. in some capacity. i'm changing again, on the inside, the shift is centrifugal, and i have absolutely no fucking idea where i'm going to end up, but i have a sneaking suspicion that it's going to be solid, given the gravity of every situation i'm in, the nature of the beast, and the experience i have, with myself.