No one wants to have a conversation or be around someone with an actual sad story.

Unless you pay a “professional”, nobody with their own life is gonna listen to my shit.

Sometimes I can’t believe it ended up this way. It’s been hard to let go. I don’t know how, I’m so used to trying to hold on to whatever is left. Whatever fucking scraps people gave. It’s my own fault I guess. I’ll never be more than a trash can. Maybe Oscar needs a friend.