I have a job that pays decently (for my experience level/education), and a loving girlfriend who is amazing, yet I have been terribly depressed.
Life has been showing me lately that all the points in my life that are sub optimal, are completely my fault.
It’s hard knowing that simply my mannerisms, speech, the way I think, basically all the parts that make me “me” are fucking everything up.
So I stop and try and evaluate what I’m doing, what I’m saying and how to be the person I want, and have the relationships I want. But I don’t read social cues well so I constantly stumble head first into the exact scenario I was trying to avoid.
I used to take solace in the thought of suicide. I would fantasize about the act in fine detail. I just wanted to make the pain stop. Both my own and the pain I constantly bring to those I would like to be happy most.
Now I want the same. The pain to stop but not my life with it. I desperately want to be better. But how do I go about becoming a better person. I barely think of myself as a person. With that as a base how do I go about actually becoming a good one?
I’m very lost, maybe not hopelessly but lost all the same.
TGIFFF-BFFF (Thank God It's Finally Fucking Friday Because Fuck Fuckity Fuckfuck™)
I hate today* FUCK TODAY. Today can suck it, not in a loving gay way, today can suck it in a aggressive prison way. If I had super powers I would make a curb materialize right in today’s mouth, I would then preform my best Bruce Lee(roy?) impression and American fucking History X today, fucking right to saint fucking Peter.
*Today is what I call my coworker, uh today. ✰~TheMoreYouKnow
I’m four chapters into this thing and I don’t know that I can continue. I really hope the tone changes soon or at the very least more Woz starts happening. I can not take all the fawning over what seems to be one of the worst self-important-pseudo(sudo?)-intellectual-hippie-twats.
So a couple more chapters at this rate and I’m jumping to The Psychopath Test by Jon Ronson….
“Get a life? Fuck my life, fuck your life, fuck fucking time life, the fucking cereal, the game of fucking life, that’s what this fucking shit is! a fucking game, fuck it, fuck you, fuck life.”—Some mustachioed ponce. By which I mean: Found in my email drafts after a night of heavy drinking.