FUCK TIME TIME IS A B!TCH
FUCKIN RANT O’CLOCK, FUCKLES MCGEE!
GUESS WHAT?! I’m FUCKING waiting now, and I FUCKING hate it!
WAITING FOR THIS STUPID FUCKING SOLUTION which is GONNA MAKE MY LIFE BETTER
but FUCK WAITING OH GOD
I WAS STABLE for like A WEEK AND A HALF damnit! FUCK COPING! FUCK QUESTIONS from PROFANE PREACHERS of PALLID HATE!
HERE’s the UPDATE, because HELL YEAH that’s useful!
I wanna make some FUCKIN DEMANDS, damnit!
I WANNA COFFIN, DAMNIT! and you BETTER NOT THROW AWAY ALL THE SHIT I PUT TOGETHER TO LAY THIS WHOLE MESS OUT FOR YA!
alright, now to the kind and well-deserving members of thesuicideproject.org, I’d like to document the following;
I am delighted to be soon leaving the forces of ill-will in my life that have sallowed my motivation for so long. Fuck them, truly, those B:tch-ass Motherfuckers. Complications in the interpersonal sphere have arisen today however which are making my own deliberations and routines more difficult. Damn them to Hell. Yes, Grandpa, Hell. Okay, sorry- As I was saying.. They brought up to me today that they wish I showed I loved them more, They asked me to be warmer with them. Fuck that, ugh. They gave me more bullshit about wanting to be heard and that I should stick around when they have issues with feeling resolved between us and obviously missed yet again that they care not for what else could be going on, which I have laid out clearly is larger and separate from their concern as correspondents. I just want to get out of this stupid fucking two-story prison with them and get these three weeks over as painlessly as possible for all of us. That’s not enough, apparently. I now have to deal with their blitherings and probably reiterate the principles of healthy understanding and conversation again, God give me strength.
Thank you fellow suicideproject.org members, To those other parties again;
I just want out, I deserve better, I know How wonderful a person I am, please stop holding me back! I need not the doubt echoed from your hornpiece and slathered over my own- cut the shit and get real, take your claws out my skin!
God, life is hard wanting the best from the worst.
And yes, Mom, when I’m gone, It will be the same as the police tell you: you need to calm down. Just as it has been. Calm the fuck down.
God, my notes on departure and healing are so much better than this drivelous rant. Just fucking tag it and publish this shit, I hope I can sleep after this. And no, You’re not getting Grandchildren.