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Don’t Think, Just Type

Don't Think, Just Type. Money can't buy happiness.

Don’t think just start typing, whatever it is:

(Appearing on an Internet message forum on April 20th, 2013)

I wish I never met you because now I can’t walk away from you. I care too much. I feel like if I lose you then I’ll end up alone, and that’s my biggest fear. I treat you like my everything and you walk all over me. What happened to all the times you said that no girl deserved to treat me like that because I was amazing? Yet, you do it yourself.

What is love? It feels like I’m in a retirement home just waiting to die. Baby, don’t hurt me.

I just dumped a chick. Gonna poop on Manhattan. I like meatballs.

The most I ever get pissed off occurs during moments when I should be having fun. Like, I go to a concert, or a movie, or something similar, and something petty happens (with the combination of alcohol) and I just lose my shit. Not in a way that I act out, but I have to go home and expel all those negative thoughts into some sort of creative diatribe. I wish to be a little girl. Jumping a river was a bad idea. I like to dance in the fog.

I have a uniform fetish and I’m ugly and have scars everywhere. I don’t think any police officer would ever want me. I really wish I could buy a uniform just to fap in. I know that makes me weird but whatever. I have seen a few online and I was almost ready to buy a trooper uniform, but it’s a size medium and I’m a large. All I want is a uniform to fap in — like I used to when I was in Scouts. I am a nice enough guy but I am not exactly attractive. I have scars and pockmarks everywhere. I am afraid. I am very afraid. I can’t even join the police force because I have PTSD. Why do I have to have a fetish that is so hard to scratch?

I think this feeling is self-loathing but I’m not entirely sure. I secretly hate most of my friends. It might be self-loathing turned outward. It might be jealousy. I think it’s envy — envy that they love each other and talk a lot and know each other and trust each other. I love no one. I can’t even say I love myself. What am I even doing with my life? I sit around playing games all day. God, I hope I don’t die a friendless, lonely virgin.

Why am I so socially awkward? I can’t grasp the feeling of emotion that underlies the stress of the human worker. I lack a comment for the stupid people of Israel that cannot give Dubai the necessary fuel enhancement systems they deserve in order to live a healthy and normal murder free life with rainbows and marshmallows.

I don’t want to live my life anymore, but I don’t want to die either. It sucks. Today I had a piece of sausage bacon. It was delicious.

I wish I didn’t go to the bathroom after heating up this spaghetti because now it’s kind of cold, but I’m probably going to eat it anyway.

You know what? Why is life so hard, so short, so painful, so so, so hot, so cold, so young, and so old? I’m either going to be very comfortably wealthy, or at the very least, extremely content with the passive income I’ll be earning from my network of websites — leaving me with all the free time I’ve ever desired to pursue my hobbies and drive the car I’ve always wanted — all by the time i’m 21. Life’s great. I just wish I could live.

I just checked my banking and I don’t have all that much money. But that’s okay because I’m getting paid on Thursday. But, if I get paid Thursday that means I should go out and buy something! Well, it’s getting warmer and I’m getting paid roughly $900.00 after taxes and I do really need sunglasses. So, I think I am going to get Ray-Bans. You know? The classic Ray-Bans? I think they are called “Wayfarer” or something. I don’t know. I also just checked my phone. I should go buy some pop tarts. I miss pop tarts.

I shouldn’t have touched that bottle of vodka last night. It’s not like Jack wasn’t enough. It’s just gluttony. My head hurts so much. I’m going out, or taking a nap or something. I dunno. Actually, if I think about it, I don’t know if a person could just write something without thinking. That’s stupid.

I honestly think my life would be so much easier with my mum dead. I love her to pieces, but she’s insane. And, the money from her life insurance would set me up for life.

I’m such a boring person. The people I try to help prefer to be helped by other people. I’m tired of this crap. I just want to lay in bed and not think about anything. What am I going to do with my life? Why are you infatuated with me? Why can’t I feel the same way about you? Why can’t Rhi and I have been something? I’m not going to graduate in time. I’m broke and lazy, and I can’t understand what it is in me that you actually like. Rhi’s going to move out and finish college and we’ll grow apart and I’ll be stuck here knowing she’ll never know what I felt. I hate myself for having these feels. Guys aren’t supposed to care this much. My future is dim, the only good thing in the semi-near future is my prepaid college fund. But that won’t do any good if I don’t graduate next year. How am I going to do anything with my life?

Fuck dolphins. Everyone thinks they’re some cute fish of the sea. Fuck that. Dolphins are creepy as fuck. They can control their penis like a finger and use it to feel things. I can’t eat mozzarella sticks anymore.

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