I’ve tried to say more, I’ve WANTED to, but I don’t know what a plastic person can offer that isn’t plastic.
I have a job, a home, health, food, shelter, the necessities. My coworkers like me, my family cares about me, my friends mean the world to me. Somehow it makes me feel even worse about myself, more of an ingrate, more worthless, more hopeless.
I have no one to share my feelings with except the web where squalling little children are crying about their life and how “hard” it is because their parents “don’t understand them” and yadda yadda yadda. Get over it, you are 12-15 crying that you hate life and you never get what you want. Well, news flash! Life isn’t fair you little shit. You will learn one day as you grow up and it is going to be one hell of a ride but don’t fucking meander around moping how you have a shitfuck life because your parents won’t let you stay out till 2am […]
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