I’m quite the fucked up individual. Both in appearance and presence. I think too much about the useless things no one cares about. I care about the stupidest things as well. I don’t have any solid beliefs because i can’t form coherent thoughts. Most of my opinions are molded from those around me. So my actual opinions are just bullshit. My knowledge is limited to finding my way around my own house, which i still slightly lack. I’m unpredictable but in the way of BMSing (pms for guys) asshole, which basically places me in the column of a little bitch when i complain. I also complain a lot. This whole thing so far is just me complaining about myself. Which makes me pretentious and selfish. Cause i have a good life with a good situation right now. Yet i still feel the need to complain and whine a state how much i hate myself. I’m an ungrateful piece of shit to put it lightly. And i’ll always be surprised that people are willing to be any where close to me by choice. I would talk to someone about my issues, but i’m such an asshole that i can’t talk to anybody about it. Yet i feel i can fully express myself on this fucking website. And the best part is that when i feel better i’ll probably erase this. So this will stand as a temporary testament to how much i hate myself and how much everyone should hate me in return. And i probably still won’t talk to anybody about it. Sorry…
I’m tired, and i don’t want to move. No good movies to watch, Sick of my music, and I don’t feel like reading today. I won’t bother anybody today, I’m just gonna see how a comatose state feels like. Maybe i’ll feel better in a couple hours.
“Once upon a time there was a crooked tree and a straight tree. And they grew next to each other. And every day the straight tree would look at the crooked tree and he would say, “You’re crooked. You’ve always been crooked and you’ll continue to be crooked. But look at me! Look at me!” said the straight tree. He said, “I’m tall and I’m straight.” And then one day the lumberjacks came into the forest and looked around, and the manager in charge said, “Cut all the straight trees.” And that crooked tree is still there to this day, growing strong and growing strange.”
— Wristcutters: A Love Story”—(via asleepinthecemetery)