(no subject)
I know, I just posted but if I don't write I'm going to explode.
I'm so artistically frustrated right now. Nobody fucking understands me. I try to share a piece of music, or writing, with anyone in my general vicinity and it goes flat.
I hate thinking so much. I hate the fact that I love writing and have so much to express, because the general public doesn't give a shit. They're completely happy to live their lives of mediocrity. Why was I born like this? Why do I have depth?
I'm sobbing for the first time in ages. Not because of sadness, but just mere frustration. I hate people and I hate this fucking world with it's shallow empty people and it's retarded conventional ambitions with no fucking purpose. I can't escape it though, and I won't succeed unless I succumb to it's disgusting standards.
I wish just one fucking person could understand me and the beauty I see.
I'm so artistically frustrated right now. Nobody fucking understands me. I try to share a piece of music, or writing, with anyone in my general vicinity and it goes flat.
I hate thinking so much. I hate the fact that I love writing and have so much to express, because the general public doesn't give a shit. They're completely happy to live their lives of mediocrity. Why was I born like this? Why do I have depth?
I'm sobbing for the first time in ages. Not because of sadness, but just mere frustration. I hate people and I hate this fucking world with it's shallow empty people and it's retarded conventional ambitions with no fucking purpose. I can't escape it though, and I won't succeed unless I succumb to it's disgusting standards.
I wish just one fucking person could understand me and the beauty I see.