regarding the events of the last two weeks, whose retrocussions extend back to about the beginning of last month.
After so long of cheating it by so little, I finally know failure.
everybody sing along with the chorus:
I never want to feel like this again.
I never want to fucking feel like this again.
Although I feel pretty much okay with it, I guess, I think my life is worse now than it has ever been before.
I have to take summer studio, I’ve been broke for two weeks, thus I owe all of my friends lots of money, the end of the semester was a fucking fiasco, and worse it was my fault, I haven’t dated anyone since this time last summer, I have to start packing to move, but I also need to get a job, I have no motivation, I snore like a drunk rhinoceros and can’t get a decent nights sleep, all but a few of the people who made LA bearable are gone for the summer, or for good, and last time I checked, two that haven’t left aren’t getting along very well, I can’t go to parties because I despise most of the people I know, any girl I have even the most vague feelings for is completely out of reach, geographically or league-wise, I’m fucking bitter,alone and in shock.
I guess I’ll say it for once in my 22 years. and this will be the first and last time I say this seriously, at least I hope.
I hate my life. I really do.
And this isn’t teen angst, I’m way beyond that. back then it just made me a hooligan. now I sit at home, and plot more ways to fuck up everything in my life.