#41
I'm tired. I probably should sleep, but I can't. I'm overthinking again, and I swear to god, this just might be my downfall. Worst trait ever. Working myself up over things I shouldn't care about...not anymore, at least.
You know what I really hate about myself? The fact that I'm stubborn. And that I can never admit that I'm wrong. I'll go through hell and back just to prove someone that I'm right, even though I'm not. I never listen to my gut feeling; because when I do, it screws me over. I'm just hoping that if I keep screwing up, I'll eventually come across some luck or something.
So far, it isn't working. Not at all.
I am disliking happy people more and more each day. I think I'm turning into a definite potential gray-haired-bitter-cat-lady. But seriously, what's with the need to rub it in miserable people's faces [such as myself] that they've got it so much better? That they're soooooo damn happy, with their boyfriends, and their perfect little friends and what not?
You're happy, I'm not. I get it. Tell me something I don't know.
No need to parade around town with bright flashing neon lights.
It's fucking nauseating.
It probably takes alot of energy to smile all day. But then again they probably really do have something to smile about. Otherwise, I'm thinking its a real pain in the ass, having to be so damn cheery all the time. It's hard enough for me to smile for pictures; three seconds into the stupid smile and my jaw starts twitching like crazy.
I think it got too used to the scowl that seems to be permanently etched on my face.
Anyway. This summer has been sucking, actually. I mean, no one has called to include me in any plans, and because of this, I have no desire whatsoever to make an effort to call them up and arrange something. Call me lazy, call me antisocial. But for some reason, the idea of spending the entire summer at home, although not that appealing, isn't exactly horrible either.
And while I have much to complain about; I'll save that for a friends-only entry. Haha and don't think you're so special that I'm doing this so that you won't complain about what a whiny ungrateful bitch I am, and how you're SO SICK OF MY BULLSHIT.
I'm doing this because there are certain people I don't want reading that certain thing and well.
You know.
I really could care less about the people who dislike what I write but still read it anyway. They're real morons. I mean seriously. Don't like what I write? Don't read it, plain and simple. Get yourself acquainted with that giant red "X" on the top right side of the screen. Don't know what color red is? Better go back to preschool.
If you complain about how much you hate what I write, you'll just sound like a total jackass.
Because who's forcing you to read this?
No one.
So there you have it.
You know what I really hate about myself? The fact that I'm stubborn. And that I can never admit that I'm wrong. I'll go through hell and back just to prove someone that I'm right, even though I'm not. I never listen to my gut feeling; because when I do, it screws me over. I'm just hoping that if I keep screwing up, I'll eventually come across some luck or something.
So far, it isn't working. Not at all.
I am disliking happy people more and more each day. I think I'm turning into a definite potential gray-haired-bitter-cat-lady. But seriously, what's with the need to rub it in miserable people's faces [such as myself] that they've got it so much better? That they're soooooo damn happy, with their boyfriends, and their perfect little friends and what not?
You're happy, I'm not. I get it. Tell me something I don't know.
No need to parade around town with bright flashing neon lights.
It's fucking nauseating.
It probably takes alot of energy to smile all day. But then again they probably really do have something to smile about. Otherwise, I'm thinking its a real pain in the ass, having to be so damn cheery all the time. It's hard enough for me to smile for pictures; three seconds into the stupid smile and my jaw starts twitching like crazy.
I think it got too used to the scowl that seems to be permanently etched on my face.
Anyway. This summer has been sucking, actually. I mean, no one has called to include me in any plans, and because of this, I have no desire whatsoever to make an effort to call them up and arrange something. Call me lazy, call me antisocial. But for some reason, the idea of spending the entire summer at home, although not that appealing, isn't exactly horrible either.
And while I have much to complain about; I'll save that for a friends-only entry. Haha and don't think you're so special that I'm doing this so that you won't complain about what a whiny ungrateful bitch I am, and how you're SO SICK OF MY BULLSHIT.
I'm doing this because there are certain people I don't want reading that certain thing and well.
You know.
I really could care less about the people who dislike what I write but still read it anyway. They're real morons. I mean seriously. Don't like what I write? Don't read it, plain and simple. Get yourself acquainted with that giant red "X" on the top right side of the screen. Don't know what color red is? Better go back to preschool.
If you complain about how much you hate what I write, you'll just sound like a total jackass.
Because who's forcing you to read this?
No one.
So there you have it.