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There are no words to properly state the level of hatred I have for the world at this moment. Yes, I know I said I wasn't writing anything because I have to study. But you know what, I don't fucking feel like it. I studied all goddamned day and you know what I accomplished? GUESS. So FUCK OFF and let me sit here and fester. Like the puss infected open wound on the ingrown toenail of existence that I have become. ALRIGHT? THANKS, ASSHOLE.


My brain is FUCKING fried. I have absolutly ZERO capacity for descision making. Even the thought of the most miniscule choices are painful to me right now. Don't ask me what I want to do, because I don't even want to make the effort to roll my poor overworked bloodshot eyebals over to where your sitting to acknowledge your existence. Because if I did, I'd have to trace through some sort of analysis as to what it is you're asking me, delve into my own psychee to access the appropriate emotion to envoke, and match said emotion to some string of words in an attempt to articulate some type of answer. And that process would lead me to a gaggle of options that I just cannot deal with, since I have never outlined, nor indexed, nor tabbed anything anywhere near that type of situation, and I'm sure nobody has anything from previous semesters that I could work off of.

Just leave me the fuck alone. I'm sure I'll eventually fall asleep/pass out in a heap/starve to death on my own. Then all you need to do is wake me up/insert an IV/alert my parents when you stumble across me in the morning. Or kick me. That would be fine. Because I wouldn't have to think about reacting to that. I just would. You know, curl up into a ball, hugging my wasted body towards my gut, choking on air, or heave the atrocities I've been ingesting all week into a pile of colorful play-doh on the carpet, and writhe in pain...whatever. At least it'd be some kind of reacton to an outside stimulus. You know, I think I understand now why people cut themselves. They just can't deal. And they don't have to if they're suddenly bleeding. Your body just takes over, which would be a welcome change from the vast expanse of DEATH inhabiting my entire existence right now. Now don't go geting your panties all in a bunch, dear friends. There's no need to worry about your good pal, Al. I not only lack the attention span and motivation to follow through with such a devious plan, but just the idea of having to chose a proper tool from a drawer FILLED with at least 10 different types of utensils of all shapes and sizes terrifies me. THAT's how unmotivated, insane, and detached from reality I am. You know what I feel like? Brad Pitt in True Romance. Except without the funny banter, or honey-bear bong. Just a waste of space laying on a couch, oblivious to everything around me. Fuck that was a great movie. I should watch a movie. Too bad my precious douchebag comerades are wasting perfectly good drinking time taking a practice exam. Ha. Ooh, they're going to get pissed that I called them douchebags. yeah, but look at them, all fucking typing their bullshit and going through their notes trying to find the right answers in a "simulated testing environment". THAT's crazier than I am right now. I'm not the crazy one, they are. Fucking bitches. ...Wait, I'm just kidding, you're the only friends I have left, don't get mad...wait, where are you going!?! I SAID I'M SORRY!!! UG! Fucking BITCHES. Shit. NOW who's going to kick me in the morning...ug....