> Placebo – Sleeping With Ghosts
> String Tribute to Nine Inch Nails
Yes, I’m depressed and I’m listening to placebo. It always happens like this. I hung out with Martin tonight, we watched Requiem for a Dream. I kinda teared up near the end, but it wasn’t too bad. I propped up two mattresses against the wall and made a makeshift couch to watch the movie on. But that’s not what got me depressed. I ended up meeting that Adrian guy, and he wasn’t really very hot. He seemed really bitchy too, I don’t know why. The whole time I just pictured him and Martin fucking. It wasn’t a pretty thought.
I met a bunch of Martin’s friends, but I just felt dead inside. But anyway, I left shortly after meeting Adrian. They were going to see the midnight showing of Star Wars in Brookings. I felt a bit strange, a bit listless… so I knew what would fix it. DDR. However, I should have realized it was the midnight showing for Star Wars in Crescent city as well. So I had to dance in front of a bunch of people, and my pants kept falling down. Not like, egregiously… but they had the possibility of becoming that way.
But here’s what made me depressed: I saw my friends Kyle and Matthew from fourth grade. Kyle was always mean to me, so I didn’t give a shit about him, but Matthew was a totally different person. He was all dressed up like an emaciated skater boy and was smoking outside. I don’t know, I just felt like a ridiculous child in cheap clothes.
I need to cut my hair. I need to buy good clothes. I need to not feel ugly. I love you guys too much to blather on about how depressed I am, but that’s all I can seem to do. Only two people in this whole world understand me. It’s disheartening, to say the least. This whole night just felt so futile. My whole life is futile. I’m deprived of the only thing that I like–computers. That’s Murphy’s Law for you.
I haven’t felt like this in a long time. This is the feeling when Taggart wouldn’t hold me any more. This is the feeling when my dad told me I have to be done with my degree by fall semester or he’s leaving. This is the feeling when people like Amanda are let loose on this world to destroy people. This is the millions of people working for three cents an hour in a factory in Malaysia.
We’re the fucking sugar ants. My only solace is in the fact that every day that passes is one closer to my death.
I have to get out of this fucking town.
I need to find somebody that fucking understands me.
I need to find somebody that loves me.
Always stays the same, nothing ever changes… English summer rain, seems to last
for ages.
I hate those days where you suddenly realize that you are profoundly unhappy. Today was one of those days.
I hate people that mope about how sad they are. I’m moping. Please don’t read this. It’s emotional masturbation. I feel ugly. I feel like everyone’s looking inside me and they see nothing. I feel like I’m so empty nothing can ever satisfy me. My techlust drives me on, but what else do I have? I’m nothing. I’m a scared little boy hiding inside the shell of a 19-year-old. I put on this big façade of stoicism to push people away so they’ll never get close. So they can never hurt me like those children did in school.
The perfect man for me does not exist. I will always find flaws. Flaws too big to ignore. I feel so ugly. I’m repulsed by myself. I want to be one of those vacuous, flippant fools smoking cigarettes. I want to be dumb. I wish I could live the lie of Christianity. I wish I didn’t know that my life doesn’t mean anything.
Work until you die. Work until you die. Work until you die.
That is not the life I want. But I don’t know what kind of life I want. I’m a fucking teenager. I hate my indecision, my stupidity. I wish it would just all go away.
I don’t hate this world. Just the people in it.
Ennui. Ennui. Ennui.
So it goes.
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