wish i’d never moved to new jersey in the fucking first place. i can’t do the things i love anymore because i feel guilty that i’m not doing the things i hate. why is feeling guilty for being happy even a thing? can’t remember the last time i slept without waking up every hour or the last real meal i ate. i’ve had the same earache for a month, the same migraine since last year, none of my clothes fit anymore.
just whatever.
