My fucking God...
I'm not expecting anyone to read this anyway, which is probably why I'm even bothering to put my whiny, personal problems into it at all.
I am so fucking sick of this shitstorm that is my life. I'm tired of being the nice guy. What's the use? Nice guys finish last, right? I'm sick of feeling like I'm being walked all over and taken advantage of every goddamn day. I'm fucking tired of being treated like shit by people. I'm sick of it. I'm tired of it. Being the nice guy isn't going to get me anything or anywhere, so why can I not stop doing it. The people in the past that I've trusted the most turned around and gave me the boot, so what's to say that the people that the people closest to me now aren't going to do the same thing? Frankly, I'm waiting for it.
Why am I flipping out and feel like I'm losing my mind? Well, tonight I shelled out 160 dollars to buy my friend a new cell phone after crawling under cars and looking around in the Wal-mart parking lot. Why? Did I break it? No. Let's just say that a friend of his just commit suicide and he needs to know what's going on funeral-wise, and 309 and cell phones left on top of cars don't mix too well. Then, I picked up Sierra from work and got treated like shit and essentially guilted into leaving the car for her so she could drive to Penn Argyl, thus me taking out the Volkswagen, which all but died on me due to an oil problem, only to get home and find that she didn't even leave the house. My mom flipped on me for finding out about the jackass that backed into her car at the QFR on diner night like it was my fault, and went on to flip about how Sierra got lost in Bethlehem and missed her senior pictures because there wasn't gas in the car and I had used it last. Yup, my fault she's a moron and can't find a place 10 minutes from our house. In the next two weeks before I leave for London with my family who put the "fun" in "dysfunctional", I'm working at Rita's 9 out of 14 of those days, and 3 of those 5 days off were requested. How nice for a job I started again to work only 2 or 3 nights a week. No Musikfest for Preston. CSI on the other hand has me doing a full fledged job...ALL BY MY FUCKING SELF IN A PLACE WHERE PEOPLE ARE DYING (literally, it's a place for people to die in comfort). That means I'll be running wires for phone, fire, security, and nurse call, along with installing all the shit that goes with it...all by myself. Warped Tour? Who knows if I'm going or not since I'm responsible for this job and have to get it done. I don't even want to start on the whole college panic attack regarding money...or lack thereof.
So when's it my turn to have a fucking bone thrown to me? When am I not going to be walked all over? When is someone going to turn around and do me a favor? I swear to God, I'm on the edge of a serious mental breakdown. Not that it matters. How many people would actually go out of their way to find out which hospital I was in if something were to happen to me, even if it wasn't a psychotic episode? When is it going to be my turn for something good to happen? It's too bad the London bombers were caught earlier tonight, because that would have made my trip a lot more interesting. Like I've been saying, if I were blown up, that would be the most climactic ending to my life. You know you'd be jealous. "Yeah, my friend Preston just died." "Really, how?" "He was blown up in London." Wicked. I guess there's still these supposed nuclear attacks in New York, Florida, D.C., or Central California sometime in August to look forward to. *Fingers crossed*
Wow, I think I really did just have a nervous breakdown.
I am so fucking sick of this shitstorm that is my life. I'm tired of being the nice guy. What's the use? Nice guys finish last, right? I'm sick of feeling like I'm being walked all over and taken advantage of every goddamn day. I'm fucking tired of being treated like shit by people. I'm sick of it. I'm tired of it. Being the nice guy isn't going to get me anything or anywhere, so why can I not stop doing it. The people in the past that I've trusted the most turned around and gave me the boot, so what's to say that the people that the people closest to me now aren't going to do the same thing? Frankly, I'm waiting for it.
Why am I flipping out and feel like I'm losing my mind? Well, tonight I shelled out 160 dollars to buy my friend a new cell phone after crawling under cars and looking around in the Wal-mart parking lot. Why? Did I break it? No. Let's just say that a friend of his just commit suicide and he needs to know what's going on funeral-wise, and 309 and cell phones left on top of cars don't mix too well. Then, I picked up Sierra from work and got treated like shit and essentially guilted into leaving the car for her so she could drive to Penn Argyl, thus me taking out the Volkswagen, which all but died on me due to an oil problem, only to get home and find that she didn't even leave the house. My mom flipped on me for finding out about the jackass that backed into her car at the QFR on diner night like it was my fault, and went on to flip about how Sierra got lost in Bethlehem and missed her senior pictures because there wasn't gas in the car and I had used it last. Yup, my fault she's a moron and can't find a place 10 minutes from our house. In the next two weeks before I leave for London with my family who put the "fun" in "dysfunctional", I'm working at Rita's 9 out of 14 of those days, and 3 of those 5 days off were requested. How nice for a job I started again to work only 2 or 3 nights a week. No Musikfest for Preston. CSI on the other hand has me doing a full fledged job...ALL BY MY FUCKING SELF IN A PLACE WHERE PEOPLE ARE DYING (literally, it's a place for people to die in comfort). That means I'll be running wires for phone, fire, security, and nurse call, along with installing all the shit that goes with it...all by myself. Warped Tour? Who knows if I'm going or not since I'm responsible for this job and have to get it done. I don't even want to start on the whole college panic attack regarding money...or lack thereof.
So when's it my turn to have a fucking bone thrown to me? When am I not going to be walked all over? When is someone going to turn around and do me a favor? I swear to God, I'm on the edge of a serious mental breakdown. Not that it matters. How many people would actually go out of their way to find out which hospital I was in if something were to happen to me, even if it wasn't a psychotic episode? When is it going to be my turn for something good to happen? It's too bad the London bombers were caught earlier tonight, because that would have made my trip a lot more interesting. Like I've been saying, if I were blown up, that would be the most climactic ending to my life. You know you'd be jealous. "Yeah, my friend Preston just died." "Really, how?" "He was blown up in London." Wicked. I guess there's still these supposed nuclear attacks in New York, Florida, D.C., or Central California sometime in August to look forward to. *Fingers crossed*
Wow, I think I really did just have a nervous breakdown.