sometimes i wonder what the hell i am doing. just sitting in a room doing absolutely nothing wishing that perhaps tomorrow wouldn't come. that perhaps i won't ever need to go back to certain unnamed places and face certain unnamed people i wouldnt mind never seeing again in my life. sometimes i wonder what the hell this is all about that maybe all i really want is out. away from the desperate fluffbrains, the other random bastards (and i assure u there are many), away from everything. that doing this just does not make me happy, no matter how much i'd like to believe it does.
but of course people only believe what they want and if i wanted to believe this was all picture perfect and astonishingly fairytale like, i'm sure i could. after all, there are probably a countless number of people who go through each day inhaling helium to keep their happywappyness alive- and actually can bring themselves to think that everything around them is substantial. and one day, someday soon, this so called happiness i seem to be surviving on is going to conveniently slip away. i say convenient because that is simply what people do. to care when it is convenient.
sometimes i think i want to go back to when my main source of misery would be a one and a half hour long chem lab, and my main torture would be the potential diaster of saying aluminium is both cheap and commonly found. back towhen i never had to deal with slavedrivers and certain people who actually think that in cleaning storerooms you will somehow dawn upon this wonderful realisation of just how incredible outdoor activity is. back to when people stopped at being two faced rather than ten million, and adults actually attempt to act their age.
