I truly wonder if anyone will read this. Without catering to the circularity of online social networks I’m left with a sense of facelessness that is a little appealing to me right now. Anonymity be mine. I stopped shouting so nobody would be listening. Talking without anyone listening. You can say anything. But I’m still listening. So what have I got to say?
Fuck life? Can’t fuck it. I ain’t got a dick and it ain’t got a hole. But it’s got a whole lotta shit to throw my way. But it’s just another day. And it shouldn’t be that hard, and I shouldn’t feel this helpless and I shouldn’t complain so much and I shouldn’t let it get to me and I shouldn’t let insomnia win and I shouldn’t hit the snooze button and I shouldn’t forget to study and I shouldn’t worry about the world or my health or my (lack of) money or my sanity cause as EVERYONE knows: Kila’s a damn strong woman.
FUCK THAT NOISE.
I’m getting to the point where I’m either going to just burst into tears and not stop or I’m going to go all Mt. Vesuvius on someone’s ass.
How many things are going to happen that I just can’t fix? I’m tired of “living with it”. How many hard decisions am I going to have to face? I don’t want to make any more choices. I always make the wrong one. always always ALWAYS. Always fuck up all the time my fault. I’m sitting here complaining like the universe is out to get me, but I create my own disasters. I trust the wrong people, I choose the wrong path, I make a selfish decision… Something bad happens in my life? It can be traced back to some action of mine in some way or another.
I feel like a cancer. or like my life is a cancer. Or my problems are a cancer. You know what? Fuck the cancer metaphor. It’s all shit. Me, my life, the world (and most of the people in it). It’s all shit, and I hope someone comes by and eventually flushes it. Hey… One can only hope right? It could happen… But prolly not without them taking a big steaming dump of their OWN all over it first.