I didn't think artists could draw such perfection but god DAMN

I can't do or say much else. I pray when this ends, it ends quickly. Whether I get a job and live happy, or.

I don't know my future. I don't even know my present. I feel like I've lost who I am. What am I going to do?

To anyone and everyone I've ever hurt. I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you, no really, I mean it. But the way I acted sure didn't help. And I did hurt you. And I'm sorry.

These past couple of weeks I've slowly been cracking, and a couple days ago I broke fully. I fully believe I deserve this for being a shitty person when I was a teen. I was an awful person, and even though I've changed, I haven't gotten my karma. And I believe this is it.

I will document these days. I will make sure the world knows how I feel, what I'm doing. Maybe who I am.

I'm scared.
I don't want to be scared.
I want to live.

But I know this is it.

God help me.

In effect, this will be my death. No, I won't actually die, but I will be unable to bounce back from this development in my life. There is simply no way to get back on to the ladder once you've fallen off. The rung is too high to reach. And my fingers are slipping.

That was 8 months ago. And despite all other help I have received, it wasn't enough. Every lucky break was simply that: a break. In the first week of January, one week before my birthday, I will be homeless. And knowing how well that usually goes, I am terrified.

The job market currently is terrible. There are no excuses for how many interviews come out of applications (about 1%, so it seems) and how many interviews lead to job offers. So, the impossible task was set. Find a job that could help keep my apartment. Simple enough, shouldn't be a problem.

I had a (seemingly) steady job to back me up, and everything seemed to go well. That was, of course, until a few odd details surfaced. To keep that long story short, it became clear that I could not work at that job anymore. And so, I was thrust back into the job market.

It started out with me moving out of my parent's house about a year ago. I had to get out for a variety of reasons, most importantly, there was simply no physical room there for me. I could not sleep and live comfortably, nor could I live with a good conscious mind there.

I meant to reply to this earlier but these two posts were very helpful, and I'm doing it. Tonight, I watch Doctor Who!!! Thank you!

Let's go skeeting!

Considering Twitter will nuke itself in about 0.2 phemtoseconds, I call it a win/win.