Even when alcohol makes me happy, I still turn myself depressed. Which is probably what I deserve. Rosie, I agree with you. At this moment in time.

It's horrid being rubbish. You will *always* be hated.

succeeding is not an option. You can either try and fail, or not try at all. Either way leaves you equally hated.

I am not good enough. I was born rubbish. I hate it as much as you do. Nothing can be done about it. I want you to accept it. Why will yoiu not accept it?! ACCEPT THAT I AM RUBBISH! ( Read more... )

EVERY SINGLE GIRL I HAVE EVER HAD A CRUSH ON

My lenten vow is to give up any notion or self-delusion that I have any redeeming features whatsoever.

Let people down AGAIN.

I want to be like everybody else.

Ridiculous human being is what I am. Cause people trouble. Either do nothing (cause trouble) try to do the slightest of things (causes even more trouble) Ridiculous situtaion leads to more ridiculous situation leads to more ridiculous situation leads to situation that's even more ridiculous. Honestly, I cannot make you realise what I have done ( Read more... )

With a very, very few exceptions, every single person I know is an absolute, total, shitting arsehole. I want you all to just fuck off. I am soon to write a document- purely for my personal pleasure/winding up myself into a n appropriate level of rage, entitled "why everybody is shit apart from me ( Read more... )

There was serious danger on Friday and the early part of Saturday, as I actually began to feel not-that-unhappy. This rare event- it usually happens to me for a couple of days about once every three months- is troublesome because it generally means me having delusions that I am capable of doing something. Sometimes I actually act upon these ( Read more... )

it was a fuckjing work of fiction, not even created by me, that if you actually read it does not even resemble my life.

Get a sense of humour.

Cunts.

Once upon a time there lived a man, who used to get up every morning and spend several hours walking around for no reason whatsoever. Then he'd come home and make lunch, before spending many more hours walking around for no reason whatsoever. Then he'd come home, have some supper, and go to bed, and repeat the whole process the following day. It ( Read more... )