Please Kill Me,
OMG I’m finally dying, good thing, no, well FUCK YOU. You Don’t have a solution. Just kidding. Not Really. So Sad, so alone, Ehhh, Over it. Was that the stages of depression? Probably not. Just a talented asshole, doing talented asshole things. Yea, yea cry a song for the $300,000 boy. we all weep the saddest of psalms. Seriously though, does anyone hear my cry for help, or is everyone just incapable of the human sympathy, they themselves crave? Short post, Deep Message. *Answer- no one gives a fuck. Not even a little, so why not chase your goals, and achieve them? Either way if approval is what completes you, you’ve already lost.
If Gives, a Fuck, Gave No Fucks,
*Hmm, sidebar (Addendum, for you over literate assholes), that was a nice (albeit Drunk thought) I guess today’s lesson is that whiskey basically prepares you for dumping acid on you hands (Fight Club reference). Pretty much, it turns out I may not be as overall lucid as once assumed, Despite that, I write and hope for the best. Okay, I’m lying I don’t, chaos seems too amusing. Maybe that’s the drive for my overactive imagination. Aiming that intense infatuation at creative purposes could possibly be the key to unlocking greatness. I know, I know…. Not that helpful, but this is a blog anyway. I believe I’ve earned a static post or two.