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I'm a shit - in perspective
What can I say in a diary today? Just days after the
disasters in America here I am about to write self centred
bollocks about poor little me. I didn't die. No-one I'm
close to died - that means that there have got to be
thousands and thousands of people who are much worse off
than me. That's just the one's who have suffered in the
past few days. What about the rest of the world? I live
in a privileged part of the world, I have prospects, I am
in control of my own destiny. What have I got to moan
about really? The thing is knowing all this doesn't help
much. I still feel like a shit, I still ponder if I made
the right decision, whether I should dump my girlfriend in
light of what has happened. But I want to be universally
popular (doesn't everybody), so I probably won't tell her
anything. I won't tell her how I cheated on her - and how
that I knew what I was doing but did it anyway. Like I
said I'm a shit. Here I go again, memememememememememe.
It's always me. Other stuff is going on in my life too,
but I can't bring myself to bitch about it. It's times
like this that I want to be able to make a difference to
somebody. Not the easy stuff like being friends with some-
one, but I want to help some-one be less fucked up.
Aaaaargrghhh. Plllleeease, what do I sound like? The
thing is I mean it but writing it sounds cheesy as fuck.
Still I'm probably still being self centred "I want some-
one to think that I'm great so that I think I matter".
Some-times I want to be less bitter and cynical - and I
guess that I am sometimes. I can't think of anything to
write. Anything I write sounds trite and moaning so I'm
going to shut the fuck up.
Listening to: Jimmy Eat World