All of these feelings are so bottled up. I’d let them out but I don’t even know where to begin or who to start with. I can find something wrong with anything. Even something so perfect like a day of relaxation. It’s never truly relaxing unless you can let go of everything else. I never can. Anxiety still captivates those who try not to care. I try not to, but I fail every time. My point is, don’t be a cynic like myself. You’re better than that. Hell, I’m better than this.





