pretentious bitch that i am
If you don't know me you can't judge me. No one in this world knows me. No one can judge what I do, done or will do. I will not tolerate it.
I've accomplished little in the time I've been alive. I've felt little happiness in all the years I've lived.
If anyone wants to put up an assumption about me then they're mistaken if they think I'm just another person too drowned in myself.
I choose to live this way, a concious choice. No care about morality.
You can care little about these inconsequential things if they have any definition of importance. I have little care about things.
Which ultimately means I'm at peace with hating things. People. Myself.
[edit:]
Seems like I have to be either high, drugged or drunk to be happy. And that's closer to hysteria than joy.