i somehow manage to make every bad day 10x worse. i don't think i can handle being ridiculously happy without being ridiculously sad immediately afterwards and im really scared this time. sleeping in the room next to cancer patients and i think i have trouble breathing, i think i have trouble sleeping. so do i fuck things up because im afraid of success, or of real failure?
in 2.5 more hours it will be acceptable for me to go run. i think i need to do that. the sun is rising at 4:56. sounds like a plan to me. also a good plan, i need to stop picking fights just because im unhappy with myself. i think that sounds good. i just sent a bajillion text messages and kindof look like a crazy but i mean what the fuck are you supposed to do when the youth of american REFUSE to have real phone conversations anymore? fucking ghey. lame lame lame. just like my face. and most parts of my life. gotta love self loathing rants.
No comments:
Post a Comment