Jesus Christ, I need to grow a fucking spine. All my problems are stemming from the fact that I am a gutless weasel. I don't even understand why I am so afraid of doing half the things I should be doing. I need to stop living vicariously through my imagination and actually do something for once. Unfortunately, I can berate myself all I want and ( Read more... )

Something good needs to happen. Those small thrills I used to get by on are now overshadowed by confusion, and my hope is quickly deteriorating. Living has become a horrible chore, and I'm having a hard time finding any incentive not to lie in bed all day except for the hope that something good might happen. But I can't imagine that is going to ( Read more... )

A coma would be a welcome change of scenery right about now.

Laugh about it, shout about it, when you've got to choose, every way you look at it you lose.

What the fuck. Stop doing the opposite of what I want.

Curse this lonely hovel.

I hate when the highlight of my day is going to sleep.

I am always sure to have a Plan B, C, D... ad infinitum. Though, it always feels like falling down the stairs when I have to resort to them. I often end up bruised and disoriented, and missing the contents of my pockets.

I need a more aggressive approach. All this passive pansy shit has never gotten me anywhere. If it weren't for luck and occasional bouts of nerve, I'd probably be dead.

I think I'm just going to give up for now. Not that anyone could tell I was even trying in the first place.