I've had enough coffee to think I can write. I've been reading the writings of other bloggers that make me feel incredibly shit about my writing and my life. But, disappointment and emotional pain is something I've learnt to deal with over the past few months since my life became as close to a living hell as it was since I worked on a cattle station, but now I'm 3 years older and alot more bitter and cynical, losing the 'everything will be sunshine and flowers in the morning' attitude. I'm 19 years old but feel like 30 and am still writing like a 15 year old with the intelligence of a 13 year old. So it goes without saying that I'm in a self-loathing mood, but one where I can humorously poke fun at myself and not completely self destruct with whatever sharp objects/ hard liquor I can find- that stage will faithfully come tomorrow night.
Yeah I'm bitching. Don't like it? Well fuck off and go read some blog about the middle aged woman in Templestowe who loves cross stitching and can't wait for her book club meeting tomorrow; cause I'm on the edge of adolescence and the cruel weight of the world is crushing my pathetic little soul and I'm gonna join the rest of the whinging saps on this virtual world and bitch till I fall into a slumber and dream about my latest fuck doing some super model girl down the back of some dark alley off Swanston street.
Well this might be a dark mood but at least I feel actual anger at others and not myself for once....and yeh it feels good. I might actually be seeing the light at the end of this dark tunnel. Whooppie!