A guy I don’t know very well handed me his yearbook and asked me if I wanted to sign it.
I said yes, and shortly after he added, “Just don’t write anything gay.”
I wrote this:
Fuck my actual butthole. You are a boy and so am I. We are going to have sex that is gay. Pound my rock hard cock and bite me.
this is really selfish but
why can’t mental illness be like any other kind of sickness where you go to hospital and your loved ones come and give you flowers and tell you that they love you and hold your hand and make sure you get better
why doesn’t that happen instead of awkward silences and embarrassing tears and messy bedsheets and a bunch of other stuff no one actually talks about
w h y
I can’t find a single selfish thing in that.