Do you know what its like to be miserable? Truly utterly miserable. Like even though you are in the middle of a public place you just want to cry in a corner and have every single person in the entire wold just go jump off a fucking cliff.
I’m not talking about miserable in the ‘upset’ sense. Like in a passing, if a loved one passes away, that’s distraught. I’m talking miserable. Like huge cloud is hanging over your head waiting for something good to happen so it can soak up all your happiness and take it away, because fuck you.
If you’ve read some of my posts today you may think me Bi-Polar. I was ‘happy’ before. I may have even used the word ‘Elated’ in a post. Premature friends. you know me. I’m back in all my impressively and extensively depressing ways hating on the universe again for making me exist. Hey. Come pity me because i have to put up with the scum of the earth and smile while i do it.
You know what the worst part about being miserable is? like there’s a worst part but whatever. Society doesn’t accept it. Apparently, no, I’m not allowed to have a huge mental breakdown wherever i may be when I realise that life actually is an abysmal pit of horror and unending trivialities.
WHY CANT I JUST WALLOW IN THE NEVER-ENDING OBLIVION THAT IS MY BLACKED HEART?!
Why does the world insist I continue with this charade of happiness and ‘togetherness’
I don’t want to. I want to sulk and be a little girl and not go to work and not pay bills and just NOT. I hate it I hate it all wahh whine whinge.
Aren’t I just the epitome of everything wonderful?
At least for the moment
I can’t handle trains late at night anymore. What happens to the public after 11pm? Does etiquette just go out the window?
Little rugrats are roaming the train terrorising passenger’s ears with their yelling and wailing. Playing with the changeable seats and just generally being annoying. And their parents? You think they’re trying to stop them? Or are they hiding in the corner afraid of their monstrous offspring and resigning themselves to being unable to control the spawn of the devil. No. They are not. They are sitting there smiling at the pain their minions from hell are causing. Like it’s cute in some sick demonic way. And what are your children doing up at this hour? No wonder they’re acting out, strap those bastards to a god damn bed and sedate the termites.
And do not get me started on playing videos / music.
Too fricken late. Literally as I type this someone is playing that god damn ‘Harlem Shake’ song. At full fucking volume.
I try very hard not to swear when writing or talking. I save it for moments that really ‘grind my gears’ (there’s a family guy reference for all you die hard fans) but holy fucking bitch tits shut that racket you call a song up. If you feel the need to harass your own ear drums then by all means, shove a pair of, no doubt grubby, headphones in those apparently hard of hearing ears and stop making the rest of us listen to that crap. If I wanted to hear the Harlem shake I would shove my head in a blender while drilling a hole through my skull and removing my eardrums with a rusty spork. Seriously.
And food. Food should be prohibited on trains, if it isn’t already. I do not, at 11 o’clock at night, want to smell your awful curry, or hard boiled eggs, for an entire train trip. Who the hell even brings those things on trains? Let alone out in public. Fuck you, you insensitive bastard and let me ride the train with at least one of my senses still in tact by the end of the trip.
At least for the moment.
And you don’t get an x this time because you’ve been naughty society.