I get a tiny bit too happy, because I feel I made something out of a day, but I know better. I know it's too little too late. Then I get sad and miserably and fall into self-pity all over again. And then I put all this shit on my blog, like it's interesting or something.
My life is.
EMPTY.
Without her.
And it shows.
And so I wait for her to give me some kind of closure so that I can move on, or that DUSHMANI fuck me some more, like out of my work (and consequently out of my apartment) and then I will really have nothing left to lose.
Except myself.
And then I will.
Because, what else is there?
I am going out of my mind every fucking day of this idleness, and one day it'll be a...
SMALL STEP FOR THE HUMANKIND, A STEP TOO FAR FOR PTITCHITZA. It'll be gone. Metaphorically or realisticly.
Post je objavljen 21.01.2008. u 18:35 sati.