Headline of the millennium.
(Source: marjoree)
For some reason, I feel like I’m missing out on something big by staying indoors the whole day while it snows outside.
But when I think about what I’m going to do outside, I’ll probably just walk around a bit, make a snowball, throw it up into the air, watch it break as it hits the ground, kick some snow, head back home.
Today hasn’t been a good day anyway.
I don’t know why modernity has made sadness such a hollow and non-justifiable emotion.
All it’s good for is self-hate, and making depression sound like a shameful thing.
For the past few years, apart from the surprise of joy, the recurring trend seems to be a fucking downward spiral, mentally speaking. I can’t seem to express the problem, because I don’t know what the hell it is.
You know it’s serious when the word “fuck” is involved.
I am my own biggest bully. How do you leave yourself alone without feeling completely deserted?
Tom ran into the open air and screamed at no one in the particular, “WHAT ABOUT ME? WHY DOESN’T ANYONE UNDERSTAND THAT I’M TRYING? WHY IS IT SO DIFFICULT TO GET THROUGH THE DAY? I FEEL ALONE ALL THE FUCKING TIME, KNOW WHAT I MEAN?”
The stranger who was picking empty bottles along the beach, and who happened to overhear Tom answered, “We’ve all got our own problems, boy. No one has the time to give a fuck about yours. Get used to it.”
Today is the day I learn that saying “I don’t give a shit” can sometimes be the most liberating, fulfilling thing ever.
Because honestly, I do not give a shit.
