Deacon Frost

...I go home, and I cry, and I want to die...

Well, it's been a week or so since I've written, but it's
not been for a lack of events. A lot has happen, but I
can't express them monosolavically enough for anyone to
understand (Kevin Smith thing).

And, here I am at work. I asked for the day off. The only
day I have asked off in over a year. Actually since I've
started working here. One day. One fucking day. Could I
get one fucking day off? Like the place is really going to
fall to shit if I I'm not here for one fucking day. I
don't really do that much. It wouldn't make considerable
difference. I think it done just to spite me.

The past few days have been pretty shitty as well. Nothing
really major, just a ton of little things that cumulate
into one massive death wish. Tonight is the Garbage
concert, which is the only thing I have to look forward
too, and right now, I'm so drug down by everything else,
I'm not even really looking forward to that. And what
comes after it? The weekend? Woo-fucking-hoo. Another
weekend I get to spend at the office at work. Stuck in a
place I hate, doing something that slowly drains away what
little life is still left in me. I can hardly wait. And
after all comes Monday, where the work week starts all over
again. Most people are glad it's Friday. I'm not. It's
just a sign that the cycle is almost complete, and is about
to begin again.

And today is my birthday. Well, I guess something good has
come out of all of this. At least I'm another year closer
to death.