I'm depressed and I don't give a fuck I'm not being anyones fucking strong, brave warrior anymore
My birthday is in a few days. I'll be 23. The way things are looking, it'll be a year spent much like year 22 was. Wasted, pissed away in a drugged sleep, or in pain, staring at the television, hating each and every new breath taken. My personality is so caustic that I'm practically unlovable. Forget love, I'm so hideous that I'm untouchable... can't even pass the time with meaningless sex. I have one friend left... increasingly, it seems, he's just going through the motions. He can't even bring himself to say that he'd like to spend time with me. Hell, who can blame him... I don't want to spend time with me either. I'm seriously considering not bothering with waiting through another year. I feel like I'm in a waiting room at a doctor's office, or... something. Just waiting but my name is never called. Thumbing through a magazine I'm not interested in. Sitting in an uncomfortable chair, of which there are row after row of identical twins. Why DONT I just walk out?
*sighs* Wow... come to think of it. There wouldn't even be anyone to attend the funeral. No one to eulogize me-- to no one! Fantastic. What a way to save both time and money. And everyone knows: I am ALL ABOUT efficiency.
Hey. I don't even know where I'd want my ashes spread anyway.
Writing it all out used to be cathartic... but not anymore. I'm just listing.
I never understood why older people hated their birthdays. My birthdays were always so much fun. A celebration of your existence. But it's just a reminder of everything you've failed to do, all your regrets.
Oh, fuck. My head hurts. Time to crawl back into my hole.
*sighs* Wow... come to think of it. There wouldn't even be anyone to attend the funeral. No one to eulogize me-- to no one! Fantastic. What a way to save both time and money. And everyone knows: I am ALL ABOUT efficiency.
Hey. I don't even know where I'd want my ashes spread anyway.
Writing it all out used to be cathartic... but not anymore. I'm just listing.
I never understood why older people hated their birthdays. My birthdays were always so much fun. A celebration of your existence. But it's just a reminder of everything you've failed to do, all your regrets.
Oh, fuck. My head hurts. Time to crawl back into my hole.