So I guess I'll use this site for its intended purpose, writing about shit I can't actually talk to anyone I know about. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing anymore. I have one friend here. One. I don't know why I moved here. Well, that's a lie. I moved here to get away from the drugs and the people that go along with them. But now, without meth, there's a whole new set of problems. I'm bored to tears. I don't really know anyone. I can't find a job here. But then, if I move back, I'm right back in the hell that I left back in texas. I feel like I don't fucking belong anywhere. I've lived in nine states in the six years since I turned 18. That's right. Nine. I can't settle, because I never feel like I'm truly at home. And now I'm broke, living with my grandma, and haven't been laid since I went back to texas for christmas. Don't judge me, monkey. I'm way too odd to make friends that I don't already have, and I'm getting too old for this shit. At some point, something has to give. Either I'll get my shit together, or I'll die. Its a 50/50 shot. Natural selection. Some make it, some don't. Man I can't wait till the zombie apocalypse hits, then I won't have to deal with this shit anymore. Or maybe my book will get published. I don't know. I'm just tired of being bored and alone, but I refuse to touch meth ever again, which means I can never go back to TX. where most of my friends are. And I don't have any weed, so I'm pissed about that. And I just killed the last of the beer, hence the random sentences. Life, you're fucking stupid and I hate you. Eat a sack of baby dicks, Life. You too, Melissa. |
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