That’s a fucking wrap.

I hate it, I HATE IT, when you’re trying to organize something, and people don’t tell you if they can come or not until the last fucking second.

I know this is kind of a stupid topic for a suicide forum, but hear me out. This is pissing me off for a long long time now.

I’ve been planning on doing this short film on youtube with a few people for like… literally a year now. It’s nothing much, just a 20 minute thing that will take only a day to film. But since I finished the fucking thing in august of last year, I’ve never been able to fucking get a date set where we can fucking film it, because dumbass people won’t fucking come.

I’VE BEEN WORKING ON THIS THING, FOR A FUCKING YEAR. Every fucking time I don’t finish this thing, which pisses me off more every day, it makes me want to bash my face into a brick wall repeatedly. It’s the fun I find in between failed relationships, shitty companionship on my parent’s behalf, and a shit-tastic house that I only find refuge in my room in the basement.

The worst part is I’ve gone through like ten thousand fucking “actors” who all have no idea what the fuck I put into any of this and the magnitude of the situation and the logistics I have to comprehend. It’s on a scale of the fucking royal wedding. And nobody appreciates it. I tell them all every fucking time that it’s seriously a big deal, and you can’t just say “yeah I’m coming” and then not come at the last minute.

This is more than a fucking fap session like you think it is, I need a specific fucking number of people to come, and the main part that people don’t realize is that if ONE person leaves, that affects the entire operation. Think about a real movie set, what if during the filming of Inception Leonardo DiCaprio was fucking sick (which I’m sure he was at least one day). Well good fucking luck filming any bit of the movie without the guy who is fucking Leonardo DiCaprio. You can’t just throw in a backup actor or some shit.

I can say all that now. Of course in the REAL situation, I can’t just go up to them, punch them in the face, kick them in the nuts and say “You don’t fucking know what it’s like, asshole. Quit being ignorant.” No, that would be “rude”. So I fucking go home and take my rage out on… nothing, and it affects NO-ONE. I’m just dealing with another aspect of my eventual self-destruction.

What’s to fucking do when your HOBBY is part of your suicide?