It will kill you, it will eat you, and throw you up forever.
Here we are at another year. Another day of all of this. Valentine's day, the mass market day, in which I am reminded of my perpetual situation.
But I'd rather not talk about how bitter and resentful I've become. Just hear me out o' people of the world. Just, just let me live this fantasy. Now that I have that, let me retch this: I am tired. Nonetheless, I will admit, this is the time of year when I do get particularly snappy.
Is it so hard to understand, that I want to be a sociable person? That I'm trying my damnedest to be nice, polite and generally pleasant? However, I still seem to have something off, or wrong with me.
To all the men who read this journal: Is it so hard to at least exert 10% of the effort I put into our friendships?
To all the women who read this journal: What, what is it about me? What's wrong with me? There's apparently something repulsive about me, so please ENLIGHTEN THE HELL OUT OF ME! Please be honest, I need to be criticism.
These pointless words echoed through the empty space, going on forever, as the sun would repeatedly made its way to the bottom of the sky, there it could be said this could represent the barrier between sanity and insanity, life and death, ignorance and understanding. However today it was none of these, it was simply relegated to be a witness.
But I'd rather not talk about how bitter and resentful I've become. Just hear me out o' people of the world. Just, just let me live this fantasy. Now that I have that, let me retch this: I am tired. Nonetheless, I will admit, this is the time of year when I do get particularly snappy.
Is it so hard to understand, that I want to be a sociable person? That I'm trying my damnedest to be nice, polite and generally pleasant? However, I still seem to have something off, or wrong with me.
To all the men who read this journal: Is it so hard to at least exert 10% of the effort I put into our friendships?
To all the women who read this journal: What, what is it about me? What's wrong with me? There's apparently something repulsive about me, so please ENLIGHTEN THE HELL OUT OF ME! Please be honest, I need to be criticism.
These pointless words echoed through the empty space, going on forever, as the sun would repeatedly made its way to the bottom of the sky, there it could be said this could represent the barrier between sanity and insanity, life and death, ignorance and understanding. However today it was none of these, it was simply relegated to be a witness.