Now I made this bed and I can't fall asleep in it.
I am exhausted. And I have seemingly given up the fight. The ability to fight for injustice. I just simply live. I wake up, go to work, eat, go home, eat, see the boy that is mildly indifferent, go to bed alone.
I live in the eye of the storm, living a life that is neither fantastic, nor horrific. I would like to say that I am happy, but I'm slowly becoming fed up. I'm tired of all these stupid expectations.
I want to go home at the end of a shitty day and partake in some bed shaking. I long to walk around stark naked. I desire to be admired, and to do the things I like without fear of judgement.
Reading my shitty comic books
Drinking my sugarfree hot cider
Watching silly depressing movies
Listening to my music
Playing silly RPG videogames
I want. I want. I WANT. WANTWANTWANWTAWATWNAWNANWANT.
I want sleep. I want new tires. I want sex. I want solitude and friendship and acceptance and hesitations and no more debt and bigger paychecks and Fantastia and Chicken Noodle Soup and love.
Ac-Cent-Tchu-Ate the positive...