12/14/2012

 I keep trying to grow up, and it’s just not happening.

I think I’m lonely.  Maybe?  I can’t tell.  Fuck, I know I am.

Everything I do lately sucks.

Seriously.  My exams were miserable, I can’t write, can’t do anything right.  Can’t even hurt myself right.

My scars from October itch.  Dry skin.  Moisturizing helps a little bit, but mostly I just scratch and scratch and scratch.

New cuts itch, too.  Or burn. 

At least I’m on vacation now.  Three weeks.  I’m tempted to stay drunk for the duration.  That’ll solve my problems.

The problem is that I need to grow up, but it’s just not happening.

I looked for a job today.  I could become a waitress, I suppose, or maybe sell cell phones.  I have vague aspirations of going to grad school or becoming a doctor, but if I’m realistic I know that I’m not going to do any of those things.  I’m not going to do anything  because I have no skills, and I’m too stupid and useless to ever gain the ability to function in the real world.    

I’m not really sure at what point I became such a fuckup. 

Seriously.  I’m not sure at what point my life completely derailed, or why.  I graduated in the top ten of my class, I went to college, I didn’t do drugs, drink, have promiscuous sex.  I’ve never been arrested, never done anything illegal, never been fired from a job.  I’ve always done exactly what I was supposed to for my whole life, and it’s gotten me nowhere.

And if doing the right damn thing hasn’t gotten my anywhere, is there any point in continuing to do the right thing?

There’s a lot of wrong things I could do.  Prison might not be so bad.  I mean, I’m a complete failure at real life, too weak to kill myself, so institutionalization seems like a viable option.  We don’t really do commitment in this country, so prison seems like the best bet.