To be or not to be? That is the question.
To be or not to be?
Exist, or not exist?
See... once you exist... you can't just "not exist" anymore. You can cease to exist, but that means you existed at one time... I'm at the point where I wonder what it would be like to have never existed.
If I didn't exist... then all the people I know would have been better off. I don't think I've contributed much to society in any way, other than destruction and chaos... a bit of confusion and some head games here and there.
I am a recipe for all that is negative, lol... Fuckers.
I don't really care about the new baby. Not at all really. I'm happy for my dad and Lisa. One of them is going to have a baby of a gender they don't already have. My dad has all girls, and Lisa has all boys. If it's a girl-- I'm moving out on it's birthday. If it's a boy, I'm moving out after college.
What's really pissing me off-- is how people ignore one another.
Fuck you. You walk by and look at me-- stare me straight in the eyes, and don't even say hi. You loved me once. You kissed me once. I fucked you once. And you don't even remember my name you asshole.
And you-- ha. I don't even want to get started on you. Head game after head game. I'll admit, I contributed a bit... but fuck you anyway.
You know me best of all. Closer than a friend-- closer than any family member-- and you forget to talk to me. You bitch and bitch and bitch when you don't know what I'm up to-- so I show you enough respect to let you know where I'm at... I don't fuck up, I go to school, I go to work, I come home, I tell you the truth about the parties I go to, the drinking, the sex-- fuck you. I tell you everything. And you forget I exist. You have ignored me the past few months... and this is really, really hard to say-- but fuck you. You're not there for me. And I'm always here for you. I bend over fucking bassackwards to make you happy... and you only look for my faults. FUCK YOU. She's more important, and whatever. Bullshit. I'm tired of the excuses. But answer this: How the fuck do you expect me to be honest with you and tell you the truth and show you respect, when all you've been doing lately is sneaking around behind my back, lying to me, and ignoring me?
I know you lied that one night when they were here and I called looking for you. You were at HER house, and there was a kid there. I fucking heard a baby in the fucking background-- and what do you say? You say " I'm at work. Oh that? that's the radio."
I know it wasn't the mother fucking radio. And when you "forget" to call me and let me know who's picking me up after my night classes...or "didn't hear" your fucking phone ring when I call-- shut the fuck up. You're lying. And it hurts. Your an asshole, and I'll never tell you. One day, I hope you read this and I hope you know who I'm fucking talking about. I fucking hope. And that way... you'll know that I'm not the dip-shit you make me out to be.
And you wonder why I smoke.
You didn't pick me up the one night of all nights I needed you. You didn't bring the things I needed... You made me go to school in clothes I'd been wearing for two days straight, fuck you. And fuck her too.
I don't even want to talk to you. You took him away from me slowly... and surely. I knew it was comming, because it always happens when there's a new Fucker in his life. I always get shoved in the back seat, and smothered by all of the said Fucker's luggage. No one likes you. They all talk shit behind your back, because you're lazy. I'm glad he loves you, and I'm glad you make him happy. But let's get one thing straight-- I'm first, bitch. You come second.
haha, who the fuck am I kidding? I'm always second. I just like to sound like I'd be first. I know I should be... and I only am when I'm being "bad." Why do you think I cause so much trouble? It's a complex. A disease. I can't help it. I have a borderline personality disorder or something. I'm an attention whore. You'll learn it once you're too far in. So... in August.
It feels good to get a few things off of my chest. Not half as much as I want out right now... but it's out there. floating around.
If any of you think this is about you-- stop being paranoid. Most likely it's not, so don't flatter yourselves. I'd only waste (yes, waste) time on you if you were significant in my life at one time or another. And if you know you're significant... I didn't write about you. Because the aforementioned people are not longer significant to me. Hopefully that's clear enough.
Assholes.
Fuck it.
Exist, or not exist?
See... once you exist... you can't just "not exist" anymore. You can cease to exist, but that means you existed at one time... I'm at the point where I wonder what it would be like to have never existed.
If I didn't exist... then all the people I know would have been better off. I don't think I've contributed much to society in any way, other than destruction and chaos... a bit of confusion and some head games here and there.
I am a recipe for all that is negative, lol... Fuckers.
I don't really care about the new baby. Not at all really. I'm happy for my dad and Lisa. One of them is going to have a baby of a gender they don't already have. My dad has all girls, and Lisa has all boys. If it's a girl-- I'm moving out on it's birthday. If it's a boy, I'm moving out after college.
What's really pissing me off-- is how people ignore one another.
Fuck you. You walk by and look at me-- stare me straight in the eyes, and don't even say hi. You loved me once. You kissed me once. I fucked you once. And you don't even remember my name you asshole.
And you-- ha. I don't even want to get started on you. Head game after head game. I'll admit, I contributed a bit... but fuck you anyway.
You know me best of all. Closer than a friend-- closer than any family member-- and you forget to talk to me. You bitch and bitch and bitch when you don't know what I'm up to-- so I show you enough respect to let you know where I'm at... I don't fuck up, I go to school, I go to work, I come home, I tell you the truth about the parties I go to, the drinking, the sex-- fuck you. I tell you everything. And you forget I exist. You have ignored me the past few months... and this is really, really hard to say-- but fuck you. You're not there for me. And I'm always here for you. I bend over fucking bassackwards to make you happy... and you only look for my faults. FUCK YOU. She's more important, and whatever. Bullshit. I'm tired of the excuses. But answer this: How the fuck do you expect me to be honest with you and tell you the truth and show you respect, when all you've been doing lately is sneaking around behind my back, lying to me, and ignoring me?
I know you lied that one night when they were here and I called looking for you. You were at HER house, and there was a kid there. I fucking heard a baby in the fucking background-- and what do you say? You say " I'm at work. Oh that? that's the radio."
I know it wasn't the mother fucking radio. And when you "forget" to call me and let me know who's picking me up after my night classes...or "didn't hear" your fucking phone ring when I call-- shut the fuck up. You're lying. And it hurts. Your an asshole, and I'll never tell you. One day, I hope you read this and I hope you know who I'm fucking talking about. I fucking hope. And that way... you'll know that I'm not the dip-shit you make me out to be.
And you wonder why I smoke.
You didn't pick me up the one night of all nights I needed you. You didn't bring the things I needed... You made me go to school in clothes I'd been wearing for two days straight, fuck you. And fuck her too.
I don't even want to talk to you. You took him away from me slowly... and surely. I knew it was comming, because it always happens when there's a new Fucker in his life. I always get shoved in the back seat, and smothered by all of the said Fucker's luggage. No one likes you. They all talk shit behind your back, because you're lazy. I'm glad he loves you, and I'm glad you make him happy. But let's get one thing straight-- I'm first, bitch. You come second.
haha, who the fuck am I kidding? I'm always second. I just like to sound like I'd be first. I know I should be... and I only am when I'm being "bad." Why do you think I cause so much trouble? It's a complex. A disease. I can't help it. I have a borderline personality disorder or something. I'm an attention whore. You'll learn it once you're too far in. So... in August.
It feels good to get a few things off of my chest. Not half as much as I want out right now... but it's out there. floating around.
If any of you think this is about you-- stop being paranoid. Most likely it's not, so don't flatter yourselves. I'd only waste (yes, waste) time on you if you were significant in my life at one time or another. And if you know you're significant... I didn't write about you. Because the aforementioned people are not longer significant to me. Hopefully that's clear enough.
Assholes.
Fuck it.