Notes
I don't know why I bother. I try not to think about why, or what the point is. The point is just to do it, so it's done. So that I have done it. I think. Right? Isn't that what the point is supposed to be? Then why don't I feel humble or proud or something? I feel ashamed, like a snail without a shell. I care too much and too little. I wish I could care more, and failing that, I wish I just didn't care... sometimes, I wish I weren't the way that I am — Yet, when I think about it, I would certainly hate to be anyone else, good grief! The moral of this story is: if you can't love yourself, find a way to at least hate yourself the least! Don't listen to that advice. You can love yourself. What are you, some kind of depressed chicken? Baaawwwk? Buh- B...b. bah-BAWK!!! BAWK !!?? Don't be a silly goose, ignoring your mental health is kinda like deciding you'll just let your head get pulverized like the guy on the album cover. I'd hate to be him, whatever is happening to him looks grotesque - eek! See? Now you have at least one good reason to be glad you are you and not anybody else. Especially exploding face guy... Enjoy the album, and don't forget... Never Give an Angel a Front! P.S. If you need help, reach out. I get it, maybe it's too hard to talk to the people you know, even if they love you.. Especially if they love you. Maybe you don't know anyone who you can talk to. If you don't have someone to talk to, try internet friends! They can be just as neat + more as "real" friends and very helpful! You might be suprised by the willingness of strangers to hear what you have to say. There are people who want to know how you feel, you just may not have met them yet. If you try, you'll find them.
