The Boy Who Stutters

This is for every idea I didn't write, for every sex I regretted cumming, for every sleeping position I hardly find comfortable. "Do you masturbate because you're horny or because you're depressed and need the dopamine?" (Reddit) I feel attacked upon reading that. So much for social media surfing,. I never thought of it that way. It totally makes sense now, doesn't it? To feel you're lonely is sometimes a given. Scrolling up and down through your phone pushes you to a cliff of self-destruction. You may or may not know it. Regardless, it would not make much difference, would it? Nothing excites you anymore. Even you happen to find something or someone, you tend to give it all or give nothing at all - which is a good thing and a bad thing. Such extremities made you lost in the social decorum that bound you all your life. Now you don't care, do you? I was creative, or so I thought. Ideas were all-encompassing. The gravity can only hold much that

Do things really get better or do we just get used to it? I've written ten and made a series for the unspoken thoughts I had for over the past years. I was good at it. I am good at expressing to no one, thus I am bad at communicating with anyone.  I like ironies, paradoxes as well. What's the difference though? The former being superficial and the latter seemingly appearing profound. As if it matters. I'm tired. Aren't you? For all the times that I hear the never-ending cycle of cuss and fuss... [Oh, never-ending cycle. never-ending and cycle. redundant. repetitive. Exactly what the situation is. Redundant and repetitive. Predictable and exhausting]...I know exactly how and where it would end. You never learn.  The screams echoed to my head no matter how calm you are. It keeps bombarding me like a restless soul - seeking comfort from the unknown; wandering aimlessly till it hits someone...or until someone hits mine. What are the chances? So odd. Even I