Just asking.
Because I'm definitely boring myself.
Excuse the following language, but rather than a lack of vocabulary on my part it is sometimes the only thing that really expresses one's true thoughts.
I'm fucking mental, and I'm fucking sick of it.
Why don't I have the strength to make myself happy? Why do I have to plod along in such a depressive way, trying to prop myself up on double doses of Prozac, whilst wishing things were different.
In the words of the Blue Oyster Cult, don't fear the reaper. I don't, but I wish he'd hurry the fuck up.
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