It smells like poop over here
Ad 0:
2002-09-23 05:23:28 (UTC)

got no cash, got no girl

but i got the world in the palm of my hand." i did at one
point. i think, im probably overshadowing my once hardcore
straight edgeness. life's down the shitter, but im having a
good time regretting all the fun im having. contradiction?
yeah, but you know what i mean, or you will.
what can you do with 2 and a half weeks? change your
life? probably, probably not. i did. 3 weeks ago i was a
hardcore straight edge mother fucking punk rocker. now im
just a ciggerette puffing, weed smoking (1st time last
night) beer chugging, liquor drinking dumbass. why? i don't
fuckin know. why was i straight edge? no one knows. it's a
choice, and i could go back to being sXe. but what's it
matter, if it ain't for life, it ain't for shit. that
sounds like ghetto talk, but it's the fucking truth. no one
cares anyway. laura? dave? rich? mom? matt? no, they don't
fucking care. rich and dave wanted to see me all fucked up.
now they have. and im gonna do it again. im gonna become a
fucking alki just like my old man. fuck him. fuck me. i
hate me. catch 22 just said it, "and i hate my fucking
is this a reach for help? maybe, probably. yeah. but
leave me the fuck alone, cause im just that fucking
stubborn that ill have the fucking nerve to reply to you
telling you to stick it where the sun don't shine. you
don't know me, i don't know you. my fucking wrists hurt
cause im typing so fast, im gonna have carpul tunnel i
matt has weed in his room that he grew. we ALL (rich,
neil, joe, lauren and me) smoked some. we made a bowl outta
a blue can. i just wanna go away. abandon everything. my
friends, my life, my job, my mom, my family and just get
out. i wanna go die in the gutter somewhere and be
forgotten about. "remember mike?" "no, who?" that's what i
want. painful forgetfullness. i guess that wouldn't be
painful for everyone just to forget. i sometimes picture my
funeral, with a lot of people in a church on a sunny day.
like at nate's funeral. people crying and talking about me,
only to forget the next day. i guess that's probably what a
lot of suicide victims do, and want. then maybe they'd (who
is they anyway?) read this and find out how fucked up i am.
im a lonely, smoking, depressed, soon to be alcoholic
who tried to be funny by using lines he stole from others
and just wandered through this life like a sack of shit. i
met some cool people and had some fun. i want the fun to
stop, i want to go away. fun.