"I've got a book of matches, a can of kerosene, and some bad ideas involving you and me..."
School is fine.
Not good. Not bad.
Mezza Mezza.
What a cruel and unforgiving bastard life is.
Seriously, what the fuck?
I've pent of emotions and I've no idea what to do.
Half of them I can't even begin to explain or understand.
I just feel like I'm about to burst, yet I'm hollow at the same time.
It's pathetic. All of this is.
My life. My attitude. Everything.
Activities that at one time would have made my week are now a miserable chore.
Why?
Why even bother with it?
Why carry on?
How quickly I forget that this is meaningless.
Not good. Not bad.
Mezza Mezza.
What a cruel and unforgiving bastard life is.
Seriously, what the fuck?
I've pent of emotions and I've no idea what to do.
Half of them I can't even begin to explain or understand.
I just feel like I'm about to burst, yet I'm hollow at the same time.
It's pathetic. All of this is.
My life. My attitude. Everything.
Activities that at one time would have made my week are now a miserable chore.
Why?
Why even bother with it?
Why carry on?
How quickly I forget that this is meaningless.