Have a taste of my sour & dysthymic self.


I grow tired of people seemingly wasting their lives at others expenses. Not that I don't hate myself for it, but at the very least I'm discontent and want to pull out.

How the hell do these people even manage leaves me perplexed.


Because they can, that's why.




And don't get me started on "friends", I don't even know what those are anymore.


There are people you like, people you hate, and they keep coming and going. Nobody really sticks around, nobody really remembers you unless you have something to go by. You're just that other guy and, On with the next acquaintance!
The biggest bond I've ever made are with people I actually lived with, even if for a single day. Well, unless they're little closeted dicks that hide in their room FOR THE ENTIRE FUCKING DAY! Not much to lose there though.


Pointless following this unnecessary rant, so here's another thought nobody will read:


Fuck! You!


And on with a real statement that I can personally read later when I recover and see if I actually learn anything useful at all.

My only freaking work is school. I have no other income but the little my parents can supply me with. I'm at 400€ of constant expenses dosed out of a fabulous Bank loan, that I'll have to pay for the remainder of 7 years, and I'm so nitpicking every little cent it drives me crazy. I can't stabilize any sort of classic work along with school, because I stress out as easily as an egg breaks on the floor. Stress that is followed by some kind of constant depression, low self-esteem, and whatever the hell I have. The music plays the same with different strings. And it's the shittiest song I've ever heard. Getting less and less with time I suppose. Or maybe just bearable.
I don't even think of commissioning things cause I have about 0 examples of what I could actually do properly, if at all.
Not during school at least. Hell, another 0 would be the people interested.
I'm tired, I'm wearied and I keep bumping the same issues over and over and over again. That's how promptly I feel.
I'll add that I'm responsible for buying food, laundry, and all the other crap your mother has done most of your life and it remains for months in a row.
It's been a huge experience and probably prepares me for the worse. Too bad I'm already so freaking badly prepared for this teaching by a scarred mental health.

Point being!
Made me grow? Sure did.
Made me capable? Sure did.
Made me stronger? Sure did.
Made me tenacious? Sure did.
And it also makes me fucking miserable and angsty.

But I'll live. Oh, I'll live. I already banned the obverse long ago.