Trapped, and Soon

I’ve been too depressed to do any research on how to best kill my fat and half way crippled self. I can’t even make friends because people somehow have the idea that my life is a privileged bowl of cherries when I’ve never had shit, have been homeless off and on chronically for my entire life, exactly what the hell is being given to me? Not a damn thing. But anyway, that really pissed me off. Way to keep pushing me over the edge! I’m starting to think my generation is the worst, full of the most superficial dickheads who are all still single and still waiting for supermodels, beauty queens and porn stars to fall all over them. All I want is someone relatively around my own age, 30-40ish, who’s taller than me, can make me laugh and hold a conversation, and whose looks scare the hell out of everyone else but turn me on. I used to be the person who dyed my hair black, wore black eyeliner and painted my nails black, had chains on my pants and boots, and I like freaky people like me. So I have the corporate space job now and dress professionally. But I wouldn’t mind being the breadwinner if I could get a full time job if I could just have my loverboy at home. And if I don’t get this in the immediate future, I will find a way to kill myself. I can’t bear this pain any longer, with the daily stares and looks of hatred and disgust from everyone as I go to and from work.