"nobody cares if you're miserable so you might as well be happy"

I feel so fucking down, so broken. I hate to whimper and whine like that but I just feel so fucked up and on the very edge of my mental and physical strength. I’m crying so much, I’m just at the bottom of everything.
The one person I need to talk to, I can't. So instead I call my mom, my brother, I even call my fucking dad for some comfort. No answer. The only person who was once here to understand me was busy with her new homework. Old friends? Don't pick up. If I don't talk to someone I'm going to explode. I’m sad for no reason, I’m crying for no reason, everyday. So I dial the number that's been ingrained in my head for five years since we're civil again, and ironically the only person who has time to sit and talk me through my problems is the one living in Arizona with his new girlfriend. I felt less cold, empty, misunderstood and fucking alone. Some people can change that for some moments, for some hours or I can hide it for a while.
But every second I feel how inside I fall apart and I have no idea how to stop that. Why the hell is that happening to me? Why isn't my medicine helping me? Why can't I be normal? I'm constantly lost in my thoughtsand fucking things up. Why do I do this to myself? How can I turn my life into something wonderful and colorful? All I want is to stop crying and start smiling. and sleeping well.
But I suffer in silence without notice or care.

see below

She held her hand out. He took it.
They walked—not into the sunset or some sherbeted version of happily-ever-after.
Rather, they walked, her left hand in his right, down the sidewalk. It was an ordinary sidewalk, as far as sidewalks go, except where glass marbles we're paved intermittently in the concrete.
There was an eroded but still red fire hydrant, surrounded by chipped yellow paint, that they passed while traversing with hands held. Awnings for various and sundry shops provided transitory cover from skies that threatened perspiration while palms, not yet sweaty, gripped each other’s. The pavement that bore their feet was cracked with negligible irregularity, yellow dandelions shot up through the breaks, swinging their weary heads to stay out of their path, even as the shadow from their linked bodies splashed immemorably across slate canvass. She lifted her chin and eyelashes, sifting light through frail obstructions.
I like walking with you, she said to him, memorizing his face. 
I do too, he said, never turning away from the sun.
The sidewalk receded quietly.  

fucking A make it end

I woke up this morning sweaty and naked in my bed, my feet entangled in my covers that were sliding off the edge of my mattress. I could feel hot air streaming through the vent and reaching the sides of my ribs. The nape of my neck was damp with perspiration and my hair matted from all the tossing and turning. I laid in bed, staring at my fan making it’s rounds for a couple of minutes until I remembered a vivid dream I had been having right before I opened my eyes this morning. It’s scary when you have such clear visions about something that has happened to you and you can’t exactly tell what's real anymore. My mind flips every day like that, rethinking.

today i have heavy boots :/

This Little Light of Mine

I'm gonna let it shine
This little light of mine
I'm gonna let it shine
This little light of mine
I'm gonna let it shine
Let it shine
Let it shine
Let
It
Shine

how cruel
for arms to miss
that which
they never had

dont need anybody who doesnt need you