Blow me away.

I never feel good about anything.

I just feel like such a fucking waste, like nothing I do will ever be worth anything to anyone.

How can I feel like such a letdown when I hate everyone else?

Really, I think everyone is completely worthless. 

Mostly I just feel numb.  Paragraphs are too much work, too much meaning really.

The good thing about being a self-loathing misanthrope is that it’s honest.  I really do hate everyone. 

I can’t even be bothered with this shit.

This constant struggle to make myself feel better about something.  About what?  I don’t even know.  I’m just so fucking miserable all the time.  So fucking miserable.  I hate everything and everyone but I feel so fucking obligated  that I can’t just off myself and do the world a favor, because it wouldn’t really be a favor.  Killing myself wouldn’t be good for Them, I know that, and I wish I didn’t.  I can’t rationalize myself out of this life when they need me—to pay the fucking rent. 

I serve a purpose.  Just a piss poor one.

How can I say these words to people who love me?  How can I tell them that I HATE myself, and I hate almost everything else, and the person they thought they knew—that mostly normal, but too serious college student, was really a pissed off, miserable, pile-of-shit person who taints and poisons everything she comes in contact with?

Fucking Christ.

I’m so fucking angry, but so fucking helpless all the goddamn time.  Is there anything worth living for in this shitty world, or is there anything worth dying for?

I think not.

“Fascinated by good, destroyed by evil, what is there to believe in?”