I have trouble saying no and saying mean things

I just typed out like 2000 motherfucking words into my spiritual coaches website and I’m like, PISSED that my shit got deleted

The UX is TERRIBLE

I seriously have trouble giving people feedback in a political way.

In a nice way

People ask me for feedback and I’m like, “it looks great”

But when I have real feedback I can’t put it nicely

Because if you want to know what I’m really thinking it’s mean

I was going to copy and paste that and edit it to take out names and their proprietary material in my journal entry for today and make it a blog post

But now I can’t because everything I wrote is gone.

I hate that

I hate losing progress

I’m tearing up right now

I’m pissed

I want to do something different

I want to quit

They told me at some point I’d want to quit

And I’m like, “fuck this”

But it’s like, I won’t tell them what I really think when like an hour of my work gets deleted

I don’t even care enough to try and fix it for them

Even if they hired me to fix it I’m like, I don’t really want to

That’s a big problem for me right now

I need money

Every bit of work I do is a fucking struggle

I’m like crying at 3:30 am because I’m writing a blog post here instead of copying what I had because my fucking work got deleted

I hate this

The tools are hard to access, the UX deletes my work all the time because there’s no auto-save going on, it’s very confusing to find what I’m looking for.

What I wrote about that got deleted

I try in life

I try really fucking hard

I try so hard to keep change going that I’m up at my computer working like a motherfucker trying to figure out why the hell I’m depressed

Why the hell I resist doing my work

Why the hell I can’t seem to understand why the people I like don’t like me

I want to know what this fucking world is that we live in

I want to know really badly

I want to know the things people don’t know

I want to eat from the tree of knowledge 

Briar was someone I wrote about in this 2000+ ward bullshit

I don’t

You know what

Fuck it, what I wrote doesn’t matter

Because it’s gone

It’s not here anymore

It’s not the story anymore

She’s gone

She’s not the story anymore

I was about to try and struggle to remember what I wrote

To try and recreate the feeling those words had that’s gone now

Writing is beautiful and I want to capture that shit

The feeling of losing writing is like the feeling of breaking some expensive art piece

I have shit in my teeth right now

I need to wash out my mouth

But I’m not

I’m fucking writing

I’m at the computer pouring my heart and soul out

And what I wrote got deleted

I HATE that

Should I give up working on this shit?

Is this the kind of pain I need to feel to write better?