Saturday, October 25, 2003

it is your right to hate yourself.

don't listen to these boring selfish cumwads who tell you you aren't allowed to be miserable. just because you were'nt left for dead in a dumpster at age 2 doesn't mean you are unable to express feelings of unhappiness and a desire to make things just a little bit better. you can look in the mirror and wonder what this skin is doing on your bones. you can think you're ugly. you can wish for crippling disease on others.

don't let stability stifle your heart and your mind. shit still happens. life still has it's shade's of black and red. when someone tells you "you have no right to be depressed or pissed off..." stop them right in the middle of the sentence and say "yes i do, just like you have the right to tell me your more somber story like it's some kind of morbid competition to see who can get the prize of a bag of pills and rope burns around the neck".

do people have it worse off then me? yes. and i wouldn't change places with them or anybody. those of you who say you have "nothing to be depressed about" are lying to yourselves, because you do have something worth brooding over; the fact that your heart is dead. the fact that you allowed apathy to dull your every emotion into a middle of the road soft rock song. the fact that you have given up on reaching for something because it was too much work to get to. it sickens you to see anyone show an emotion that you have let slip away, so you tear them down and build up your paper thin self esteem and pretend for a moment that you're somehow a part of some sort of reality, that you know the cure to unfathomable sadness, that you've somehow defeated the misery when it is really the winner by default.

you gave up, and you can't stand to see anyone else put up a fight so you try to sway them into submission with your sarcastic tone and your irony fetish.

and no, i'm not on drugs. only the sober are this insane.


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