The mediocrity that is me
Try a free new dating site? Wiex dating
In an interstellar burst, I'm back to save the universe.
I must have walked ten miles these past two days. And I'm
starving and living off of instant potatoes and listening
to basketball while my roommate picks at her feet and
calls me crazy and weird and stupid.
I walked to safeway today and bought laundry detergent and
eggs and coffee filters so I can continue my caffeine and
nicotine addiction. Everyone dies, I'm just choosing the
way I want to get out of here.
I have officially decided that I am insane. I deleted a
few of my other journals, probably hoping that someone
would care or something. Or maybe not. I want a
breakfast burrito right now like you would not believe. A
breakfast burrito and coffee and a fucking cigarette.
That would totally make my day. I think I can do the
coffee but not the burrito.
So I've been trying to get help. It bothers me that I
can't do anything all the way. I'm insane. I'm
depressed. I'm suicidal. But so are millions and
billions of people out there. Hooray, once again, I've
deduced myself to becoming one of many. I got drunk again
last night and cut myself so my entire left arm has
scratch marks like I got into a fight with a kitten. I
don't even remember why. I called asking for help
yesterday. But it was friday and everything was closed,
and besides, she wasn't taking any new appointments
anyway, so the closest place is like ten miles away which
is entirely too far for my little feet to walk.
Consider this a cry for help. Consider this a scream for
someone to save me. Consider this my last resort.
Consider this my suicide letter.
I'm too tired, too old, too dead and lonely to get up