You shouldn’t read… who cares about disclaimers?

Okay. So here’s the lowdown: It’s a work-night and it’s late… but I’m semi-drunk. So there’s the prologue.

I am so done with everything. These will probably be words meant for a different "diary." But I figure hardly anyone reads this anyways, so it doesn’t matter. No offense to those (2) that read it.

I hate so much. I mean. Sooooo much. But  I’m not allowed to. It’s like an Asimov robot killing a human. It might want to… but the programming doesn’t allow it. But like a robot I see, realize and understand so much. Soooooo much. And sometimes nuclear annihilation seems like the "best case scenario." But maybe that’s me confusing everyone else for myself. And I am rational enough to understand what is unhealthy about this. I just can’t seem to get past believing karma/justice/whatever dictates that everything is better without me interfering. I search and search and find nothing I contribute. I feel more like an albatross around the neck of the world. I’ve dictated the death of two humans and 2 non-humans (well, and plenty of insect non-humans).

Fuck it. I have to pee. And I guess I have work tomorrow. I don’t understand why a girl wouldn’t want to stick with me… seriously. I am obviously a prize.