This time I have tangible proof. That the whole thing, all of life is a frigging joke!
Six years and it meant naught! I need to lock myself up in isolation if I don't know what a person's capable of even after six years. That she could hit me, and then in her head create the picture of me hitting her.
It hurts. So bad. I want out. To be real real far away. And I don't want to have to hear about any of this again. Ever. And I want to stop feeling guilty about nothing.
I WANT IT TO STOP NOW. NOW!
Bizarrely random. Two words that describe this life of mine. I wonder if things would be any better if I went and lived my life anew. Now. Anytime, actually. My likes? Music. Books. And yes, sadism in very generous quantities. And Calvin. ( One guy weirder than I can ever aspire to be!) I thrive on sarcasm. And Seinfeld. And yes, I'm worse than I sound. My aspiration in life is to become evil, I hear I am too much of a nice person - for myself to bear.
About Me
- paranoidandroid
- Keywords to my life. Sarcasm. Pessimism. Pasta. Douglas Adams. Jimmy Page. Saki. Misanthropy. Ian Anderson. Cheesecake. Fantasy fiction. Icecream on Wednesdays. Robert Plant. Wodehouse. Hugh Jackman. Genuine. FabIndia. Chinese takeout. Scotch-Ginger Ale. Jimi Hendrix. Ipod. Gloss. Rahman. Wild child.
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