We made it another year, you guys.
I’m not bothered by it, so much as I am just sick of life. There’s depression, and then there’s pit-black, slit-your-goddamned-wrists, eat-a-bullet, suck-a-tailpipe, ram-your-face-into-a-brick-of-plate-glass, go-fuck-yourself despair. I have the second one, I think.
I’ve wanted suicide and wished for death for as long as I can fucking remember. I just don’t have it in me. I’m a coward, when it comes right to it. Plus, I love my cat. Who would look after my cat? I have to stick around to look after my cat. The thought of anyone ever hurting my cat, sneering and laughing and getting off on the cruelty, makes me literally capable of dismemberment. If anyone ever so much as touches my cat with intent to harm, the cops are going to find me crouched on all fours, covered in blood and bits of skin, surrounded by a pile of mutilated corpses with bones sticking out of my teeth and a blank hole where my eyes are supposed to be, and they’ll put me down with a goddamn 12-gauge.
Yes, I’m very sick. I’m not having a good night. The meds don’t always help. This is one of the nights where they don’t help. I’m very sad, very tired, very alone, and unspeakably angry. I hate my own existence. I’m not particularly fond of sleep right now. I’ve had several nights back to back of simply monolithic, unavoidable, gut-shattering nightmares, and one of these nights my demons are going to give me a final heart attack and that’ll be it, and a cleaning crew will find my cold putrefying body a week later, wrapped in tangled blankets and staring fish-eyed at the ceiling with an indescribable look of terror frozen in rictus on my fuck-ugly face.
Whoever you are, be glad that you’re not me. You wouldn’t make it in here. You wouldn’t last 5 fucking minutes.
Yep, this is totally me.
This is still my reaction when I read certain people’s blogs who are Very Serious About Life. Idiots. Join a gym, read a newspaper, pull your head out of your ass, and stop being such a self-absorbed narcissistic quank.
Lmao I am officially done
GET A LIFE, YOU OVERWEIGHT PALE PASTY NECKBEARDED FEDORA-WEARING FATASS BUTTHURT BASEMENT-DWELLING BOTTOM-FEEDING NERD-WHINGING GEEK-FUCKS.
Mr. Personality himself… #fatandhappy #fatcat
My mom’s cat Lambeau, and her inability to catch the ribbon. She is such a derp.
"Keep a positive attitude," they say. "If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything," they say. "You can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar," they say.
Yeah, well, FUCK YOU. You don’t know shit about shit. Those are the lies that society tells you to keep you sedated while the world passes you by, while everyone else is enjoying life and meanwhile you’re silently screaming in the agonized hell of your invisible prison.
FIGHT BACK. Light some goddamn fires. Break a few windows. Throw a Molotov cocktail. Kick some fucking asses. Ram a car into a storefront. Take a baseball bat to your television set. Call a celebrity out for being the selfish, entitled, narcissistic cocksucker that they are. Raise hell. Scream your lungs out on a streetcorner. WAKE THE FUCK UP. The world passes by us fast, time’s wasting and the assholes around us want to keep us silent so that we will just crawl off into the underbrush and die quietly. They want us out of the way so that there’s more for them. They want to preserve the status quo. They believe themselves to be gatekeepers, exercising the rightful judgment of entry to society. They believe themselves above the rest of us, elite, supreme, demigod-like, unapproachable, immutable. Fuck that shit. You’re human too, you fuckheads.
i watched this like 5 times in a row
With parents like these, this child is going to grow up to be awesome.
Ay ay ay
This behatted gentleman looks less than thrilled.