I am a fucking push-over.
And the cause of my unhappiness is the fact that I am not enough of a cunt to force people to be decent. Not even nice, just decent. So instead I’ll wash putrid meat juice out of the fridge and spend the week driving people around and moving furniture and then I’ll wonder why I’m too tense to relax my muscles when I go to bed at night. Consider this passive aggressive post the closest I’ll ever come to saying; “Fuck you, deal with it yourself you piece of shit, what the fuck have you ever done for me? Fuck you to death, you hear me? Fuck you to death”.
09/30/2011 01:54