Bodies

I haven't really had time to dwell on the person I am. Compared to two months ago, am I any different, or am I still the same naive girl? I feel like I haven't changed a bit. I want to say I have, but I have no reason to believe that. I haven't gone through some personal, moral change. Other from obvious reasons, I feel like an even shittier person than I was before. There are so many things that I want to fix. So many, it hurts to know I can't do anything. What if the things we did don't shape us into better people, but even shittier ones? What do we do then? Do we just go on and pretend that we're better, when really, we're so broken and torn we can't even bear to be better people because of the heartbreak we inflicted when we considered ourselves to be 'good people'? Man, fuck that. I want to be a better person, to show I care, but I considered myself a pretty good person before, and look where it got me. I can't afford to fuck up, or get confident, bold, and sad. I have way to many peoples emotions riding on me for that. In time's that I'm alone, I'm mellow and calm, and I like it. I can dwell on imperfections in myself and not have someone telling me that I'm perfect and that it's not my fault. Which is good. I don't need someone else's reassuring comments. I fucked up, and I'm going to dwell on it until I get sick of myself thinking about it. I fuck up a fucking lot. And I do it unintentionally! WHAT THE HELL. Haha, how the hell do I manage to break everything? Even me, goddamnit. I can sit here for hours and convince myself that I won't be okay, and make it sounds plausible. That's a fucking gift. A gift for masochists. I'M A MASOCHIST. I might even be a sadist. You know, one of those unknowing sadists. Wait, but I know it. SHIT.