I hated myself a lot in college. It’s a thing you do, I think; part of trying to figure out who you are is getting a lot wrong, and then being angry with yourself for all the things you aren’t, and that anger always turns inward, no matter how much you try and push it away.
“I felt like crying but nothing came out. it was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can’t feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often.”—Charles Bukowski, Tales of Ordinary Madness (via observando)