askchapo

I fuck myself over by sharing things I don’t need to, and being too honest regarding those things. Sucks that it took this for me to finally learn my lesson. I’ve really fucked myself over this way.

Couple months ago I was sent $4K by someone who just wanted me to be happy. I had literally never in my entire life had money to spend like that. It was a once in a lifetime kind of thing—I know that all too well now.

I almost bought a really fucking nice Jeep Grand Cherokee, with tags good for a whole year, already passed DEQ. Then I listened to a friend who said I should buy a car made by a Japanese company (Honda, Toyota, etc.). So the opportunity passed and never repeated itself. It was only $1,700.

I didn’t spend it all on drugs. I spent maybe a quarter of it just helping my friends out—I sent $400 to an old friend who’s homeless in Austin, TX; I ordered a fuck ton of DoorDash for my friends and I.

I also wasted a lot of it. I’d go buy something stupid, break it or lose it and buy another one. I was careless.

I loved being, for a brief moment in time, like my friends who have seemingly endless money either from rich parents or ripping off Uncle Sam.

It’s my dream to be some sort of content creator—I’ve always had a thing for writing that’s never been executed beyond just like, a private hobby. Like an old friend of mine who draws and makes art and doesn’t really show anyone. Making videos or whatever, too. That’d be cool. Then I can live off Patreon (even if it isn’t much, I’d still be happy—the things I hate about being homeless aren’t the being homeless part, per se).

I believe I deserve a second chance and I know that if I were given one, I would be way more responsible.

But that’s never going to happen. Everyone knows what a fuck up I am now and as winter approaches, I’m legit scared.

I’m sorry.

I’m not trying to fuel my drug abuse and party and shit (tbh right now I don’t even need money for that bahaha). Meth is fucking lame and I hate it anyways.

I just want my knees to stop hurting like fuck whenever I stand up and sit down. I want this brain fog I get from not eating to clear. I want a cozy sleeping bag, clean clothes and facial cleanser. I want to fill in these sunken cheeks and smooth this dry nasty skin. I want to be able to just chill and read or sew or something instead of trying to find breakfast at 4PM. I just want to have a life again.