What makes our hearts purr doesn’t count.

I never thought about killing myself because I hate making people sad.
I never thought about killing myself because I start crying too much my head hurts.
I bet that the feeling of regret is keeping alive a lot of people out there.

Happiness doesn’t feel real and what makes our hearts purr doesn’t feel right.
If that wasn’t true, the days I feel like I can’t be around people because I could start crying anytime wouldn’t outnumber the ones I feel ok about the world.

When I feel that way it’s usually nobody’s fault.
Which, yes, sounds pretty fucked up.

I’ll tell you one of the hardest things I have to deal with though.
I would’t wish the person I hate most to wake up any given day the way I wake up.
Because every morning my mind convinces me that everybody forgot about me.
That during the night everybody just stop caring about me.

That happens every day and yes, it’s exhausting.
It’s also not true, but every goddamn time it feels so real is heartbreaking.


My room in LA is the only thing that has seen me cry on this side of the world.
It happens once a month, this is the 5th monthversary.
I feel like I can write this shit here because no one will say anything to me.
Here or on the umpteenth piece of paper is the same thing.

Crying make my eyes puffy and the pores on both sides of my nose look like craters.
It’s a funny reaction, I look ugly.
My head hurts, but I need a cigarette.
I feel like I’ll need another one as soon as I’ll finish this one, but I won’t, because my mom wouldn’t like it.

I’ll drink some lemonade and everything will go back to normal.
I’ll look good as usual the next time you’ll see me.
Because that’s how it works.