...death becomes clear through bloodshot eyes...

Hizzy, I'm sorry, but I could've just about knocked your fucking teeth out the night you wrote Amanda that check. I bet you still haven't even seen that money. Wouldn't surprise me.

Call me petty. So fucking what? I'm getting really fucking sick of a lot of things. (Sorry Hiz, but it just so happened that was keeping me awake, so I picked that topic in particular.) I would say mainly a lot of things with myself are pissing me off, but that wouldn't be completely true. Not only would I be lying to myself, but I'd be lying to all of you.

I will admit I am too sensitive about a lot of things, but nowhere near as sensitive as those Province boys can be (...no comment, you all know what's up...). Every time I say "Fuck it" I wish I really meant it. I try to distance myself from all the stupid shit that I can, but in the end it always catches up to me. I get to thinking about how people work (in my perception) and it makes me sad. It depresses me, and I get to a point where I hate myself for feeling the way I do.

It can be like a train wreck at times. I can't seem to pull myself away. Humanity in general never ceases to stupify me.

There have been plenty of nights I've drifted to sleep with thoughts of stabbing out someones eyes, just to spite them. Driving nails through their throat, just to get them to shut up (or stop snoring). Busting someones head against the ground until there's nothing left but a red smear of blood and brain tissue left on the pavement.

Sometimes, these thoughts are turned on myself.

I want to put a gun to the head of the world and pull the trigger.

"I wanted to put a bullet in the head of every panda that wouldn't screw to save it's species."

In essence, I fucking hate each and every fucking one of you and I hope you choke on your own fucking blood as you die a slow and painful death.

...

That felt good.