another day another dollar
Again I come home from a swim event feeling like shit.
I really want to quit now,
I'm not even kidding.
It's not always so bad,
some days are worse than others.
Hell it's not like they're bad I just don't feel
apart of any of it almost ever.
The bus ride up was not so bad because well
BT is fucking hilarious and has funny monkey and dragon dreams
and Gillians nice,
but other than that I hated it just about.
I believe if the next week is hell like this
after Christmas I'm leaving.
A little part of me doesn't want to,
but the part that's being broken down and smashed
and hurt and sad everyday when it gets home wants to.
Not only does it want to it needs to.
What is wrong with me,
honestly.
I shouldn't hate myself
and cry because of it.
I shouldn't not want to hang out with people like them,
they're funny.
I'm pretty sure on some days hilary feels the same as me,
at least today on the way home.
She looked (and I assume felt) the way I felt.
It's not their fault,
I know it isn't.
It must be something I'm doing wrong,
not even something I'm doing wrong,
I think I was created as an experiment ya know.
So people could observe what happens to someone that's future holds nothing for them,
they're always failing at stuff,
and there isn't anything good waiting for them when they're done.
I think I feel a extreme need to write a poem phase coming on...
Yes,
I do.
But I'm not going to write anything,
it does me no good anymore.
It doesn't relieve the pain the way it used to,
it doesn't soothe me the way it should,
it doesn't make a difference,
because, alas, I am no good.
I really want to quit now,
I'm not even kidding.
It's not always so bad,
some days are worse than others.
Hell it's not like they're bad I just don't feel
apart of any of it almost ever.
The bus ride up was not so bad because well
BT is fucking hilarious and has funny monkey and dragon dreams
and Gillians nice,
but other than that I hated it just about.
I believe if the next week is hell like this
after Christmas I'm leaving.
A little part of me doesn't want to,
but the part that's being broken down and smashed
and hurt and sad everyday when it gets home wants to.
Not only does it want to it needs to.
What is wrong with me,
honestly.
I shouldn't hate myself
and cry because of it.
I shouldn't not want to hang out with people like them,
they're funny.
I'm pretty sure on some days hilary feels the same as me,
at least today on the way home.
She looked (and I assume felt) the way I felt.
It's not their fault,
I know it isn't.
It must be something I'm doing wrong,
not even something I'm doing wrong,
I think I was created as an experiment ya know.
So people could observe what happens to someone that's future holds nothing for them,
they're always failing at stuff,
and there isn't anything good waiting for them when they're done.
I think I feel a extreme need to write a poem phase coming on...
Yes,
I do.
But I'm not going to write anything,
it does me no good anymore.
It doesn't relieve the pain the way it used to,
it doesn't soothe me the way it should,
it doesn't make a difference,
because, alas, I am no good.