…I woke the same as any other day, and said seize the day…
Woke up late, car backed into mine, failed a test, tried to be social, ended up spilling lemonade on my crotch, still have 3 pages of a paper to type. And it’s only 11:38am. I thought things were supposed to get better.
Edit: 12:30pm broke a $40 violin string and cut my hand.
A slow descent into madness seems to be my fate. When does the straw that breaks my back finally come down. I’m not sure, all I know is I’ve already collapsed. What else is there to take? How many straws before I’m suffocated by the weight of life. Everyone says things get better because it’s the easiest to say, but every time I feel like I am ready for life to change, it reminds me reality isn’t so pleasant. Life isn’t happy like daisies in a field, it hurts, like a bouquet roses, drying in a vase till their life fades. You know, I really have been trying. It’s been a month since I reached the peak of my manic, but since then, things have only seemed to wear me down quicker. I’m not depressed, I mean it. I really am trying to make the best of what I’ve got, but how could anyone feel happy when the little hope they thought they could cling to fades away each and every time. Man, life is a bummer…
…I woke the same as any other day, you know, I should have stayed in bed…