Not doing well again tonight. Or still. Or whatever. Am I ever doing well? I long for death. I need a job. I need a bloody miracle. I need these fucking tears to stop. I need a drink. Or a joint. Or both.
No. WHat I need is a gun and one single bullet to put in it so I can blow my fucking brains out.
Everything is falling apart. I miss my once upon a time wife. I miss having a life. I’ve never really had one but the one I had was better than this by far. If this is life then give me death. At least then the pain stops.
My entire world is ending. I may as well go with it.