Guess who is back on the cutting edge?
This fucking sucks. I KNEW something shitty would come from my "good" days. This weekend I had plans.. I had plans to get away and actually have fun for once. I'm so fucking sick of this. I'm sick of everyone I know. I want new people. [look, I really don't give a flying fuck if this offends any of you or not. If it does, it's your problem. Just stop reading it, fucks.] I want to actually go out and have fun. This never happens anymore, there's always someone or something there to destroy it. Somewhere there to bitch about another, someone there to complain. Someone there to give someone else crap. .. Or someone who isn't there. I'm sick of it. I am SO FUCKING SICK OF IT. I had plans to go to the coast after work tonight with mum. They fell through. FUCKER. I THEN had plans to go see mandy. They fell through too. Shot down twice in one day.. god, it was the first time I was actually looking forward to something.. then it got snatched away.. BOTH things, not just one...
I worked an eight hour day... A FUCKING EIGHT HOUR DAY. I sat down for FIFTEEN MINUTES. JUST FIFTEEN. I have been on my feet all day from 10am [well, actually befor then really... ] to 6pm [actually, after that too...]
I got woken up this morning by Satan knocking on my door. Satan refused to let me sleep, she insisted on my waking up. She laid on my bed for 5 minutes, then grew wrestless, frightened... She gazed out my window, a silent prayer to see no horror. I walked out with her, opened the door, set her upon the nightly terrors.
I have a headache, my back hurts.
I always thought in a time like this I would look at myself and think "I've never felt so low...." Oddly enough, it's not like that. Sure, I feel like shit, but I don't feel low. I may do some low things, but I'm not actually low. I feel.. so much better than you.
I worked an eight hour day... A FUCKING EIGHT HOUR DAY. I sat down for FIFTEEN MINUTES. JUST FIFTEEN. I have been on my feet all day from 10am [well, actually befor then really... ] to 6pm [actually, after that too...]
I got woken up this morning by Satan knocking on my door. Satan refused to let me sleep, she insisted on my waking up. She laid on my bed for 5 minutes, then grew wrestless, frightened... She gazed out my window, a silent prayer to see no horror. I walked out with her, opened the door, set her upon the nightly terrors.
I have a headache, my back hurts.
I always thought in a time like this I would look at myself and think "I've never felt so low...." Oddly enough, it's not like that. Sure, I feel like shit, but I don't feel low. I may do some low things, but I'm not actually low. I feel.. so much better than you.