First Post
He said "Son, when
You grow up
Would you be
The saviour of the broken
The beaten and the damned?"
Finally I got a new blog. Not too happy about the layout, but I'll have to live with it. Its not the end of exam week yet, but I'm blogging about shit instead of studying. Bleh.
Lately I've been feeling so lowly of myself. I have nothing to be unhappy about, but I'm such a fuckingly ungrateful bitch, so I have every reason to hate myself. I despise my complexion, my face, my nose, my hair, my figure, my weight, my height, my unpopularity, my stupidity and my plainness.
Let's face it.
I FUCKING HATE MYSELF.
What's with all the vulgarities and my moods? I don't understand me, and that gives me more reason to hate me. I'm rarely happy for long. Nobody can understand how I really feel, because I mask my tears behind a loud laugh.
Why can't I be taller?
Why can't I be prettier?
Why can't I be more popular?
Now, before you start telling me those things don't matter, for me, guess what?
THEY DO FUCKING MATTER.
I'm fucking dense and shallow and I cry far too easily. Everyone says I have a fun personality, but what's the use? Everyone is much more popular and prettier than me, so what's the fucking use of having a fuckingly fun personality?
I think that's more than enough vulgarities and depression for one post. I'm just gonna fuck off and mope away in my mind as I scroll down the list of contacts in my phone and my MSN list, envying them for all they have.
And now as I sit here crying
The tears that you'll never see
I pray, I wish and I hope
That you'll be happier without me.
Updated by Theodora on 6:40 PM
