I hate everyone. And everything, too. Like I’d love to put on my pajamas or go outside for a smoke or something right now but I can’t because my mom and her boyfriend are fucking in the next room. Awesome. Just hurry the fuck up damnit.
I fucking hate the people I work with. They’re horrible to me. They’re all fucking pathetic.
I can’t think of anyone who I like or care about. Well….my little brother. But he doesn’t talk so I suppose he hasn’t given me a reason to dream of slaughtering him yet.
I can’t fucking sleep and food’s not appealing and nothing is fun or happy and I’m fucking sick of all of this. When those fuckwads are done I think I’ll enjoy my last few cigarettes.
I started venturing outside of my dwelling and then I realised that was a huge mistake and that actually there was reasoning behind my life as a recluse. It was totally rational. People are horrible.
Wow we are all such nauseating, disgusting creatures. I wish this all had a point.