I have destructive tendencies.

I don't care anymore, but I care I don't care. I hate all my inadequacies, all my missed chances and my inability to make use of my dull and uninteresting strengths. I hate my fear of perusing something radically different, my lack of ambition but the fire of competition and self pride that holds me back inexplicably. I hate my immaturity, my desperate requirement for sympathy, attention and compliments. I hate that I can't sing, or play, or achieve what I wish I could. I hate that everyone else can, and have better control of their negative emotions. I feel I'm being left behind by everyone else who is growing up and taking responsibility while I'm living off of my Dad's death money *waves hands spookily*. I want everyone to love me and attend to me, but also for everyone to leave me along.

I want coffee. I want but I can't provide myself with anything. I want some light in the dark. And a purpose, a muse and a reason. I need the sun and blue skies. I need tears. I hate my body and my fitness and I need something to drag me out of this pit. I'm scared to start but I don't know what I'm clutching onto. I don't even have the effort to write lyrics. Just the effort to bum with fury. I have destructive tendencies.


Unknown 10:14 pm  

*loves and snuggles from a safe 'leaving you alone' distance*

Btw, you seem to forget that you're actually awesome, silly boy.

General Ramblings and Observations by Tom of Earth: a cryptic emotionally-driven look into the life of times of the infamous sock wearer, gadget-whore, unintentional blasphemer, hypocrite, servant of Xenu, Pastafarian, absurdist and thantophobic...without me, its just aweso

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