Something's wrong. Something is always wrong. There has to be a reason why I click over at the drop of a hat. I've said it. Sorta. Written is more of a fitting term I suppose you could say. Nothing in return. The simple things in life that most people seem to just take for granted are those things I just wish I could have. I can't help it. I can't help but notice, as if it's some kind of cruel comedy, that I lack the norm. It's depressing. I hate Gwen Stefani. I hate how she has everything. How full of rage I am right now, and how pointless it really is. Which brings me to dwell on the delusion of everything being pointless. Why do I bother doing anything? Everything seems like a waste of time. Everything IS a waste of time... when you hate yourself. Hating yourself makes all the difference. I think enough of myself to keep myself alive - barely. I guess when you dislike yourself and everything else, it gets rather difficult to find a cloud with a silver lining. Everyone's out to get you. They're all just lying to you. You're tolerated because you're a convenience for someone. There's always an underlying plot as to why someone is nice to you. And by chance, if you do spot something resmbling a cloud with a silver lining, don't forget to run far away, before you have to pay double through the ass, because you're not SUPPOSED to enjoy anything. I don't really believe this, though I think it more often than I probably should. I am the center of my own microcosm, and in my world, I am dictated. I am the most hated. I am the most gruesome. I am the one that everyone silently thanks the Lord that they aren't. As my mind wanders right now, I think about goals, and how destructive they are for me. I had a goal once. I hated it. I had worked towards it, reached it, and in the end, I wasn't satisfied. It was so much work for a shit pay off. I wasn't building character. It didn't up my work ethic meter. All it did was put me in fear of attaining goals and coming to the scary realization that nothing makes me happy. Nothing is ever enough. I'm so needy that it's sickening. Part of me wants to walk away and set fire to my city and watch it burn like Nero; though this time I won't blame it on Christians; I'll blame it on myself. I'm such a beaming ray of happy.
Cracked
3:13 a.m.//12.28.04
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