don't read this

despicable

what a fucking embarrassment and waste and farce.

disgusting.

no sense of responsibility

actually, it's worse than that.

AN UNDERSTANDING, AND THEN CHOOSING TO SHRUG IT OFF.

so fucking vile

i would prioritize my own relaxation over the life of a cat? how despicable.

what an ugly heart.


enough bullshit. enough "if I'm angry enough at myself that'll make it ok right???".


what is so fucked up in my heart that i would choose personal minor convenience over risk to a cat's life


i think it might be some part of me somewhere where i simply doesn't care about killing or dying, that on some level these are either fictions or just... okay actually.

why, and how do i correct this.


well i think also i need to quit the job that makes me Emotion Extreme

but yeah i think this comes from a sheltering from violence, some deep belief i have that problems are fake and fixed by ignoring.

or that, when i am "overwhelmed", i am permitted to shirk responsibility. that it becomes okay...