What the fuck does he care right? Just cruising in his POS life and fucking with my entire existence.
What the fuck does anyone care right? I woke up this morning and there was this empty bit that started to grow and I am so furious. Just red with anger and frustration. I want to swing a bat at him. Set him on fire.
But I won’t. I have the balloon string in my hand and have found a tree to tie it off on. Fuck me. Fuck my life. This one dimensional existence I bumble through.
Here is the soundtrack to my brain tonight.
But who the hell cares right? In my head I’m painting beauty, writing some new thought and I look around me in this hellhole I’m living in and it’s just me. Fucking loneliness and fright. I’d throw up if I had anything left in me but I don’t. Empty damn relationships. Paper. Wet paper and just a shitshow that won’t stop. I sat and thought wouldn’t it be nice to park myself in another’s soul. No point though because it is impossible.