I am so thankful.
The fact that there is enough food to go around is a blessing.
Although God is the one to receive all gratitude, my mother and step-father deserve at least half of the praise. Its good to be here. Alive.
I can’t take this shit anymore.
I can’t focus. I can’t fucking think.
I’m supposed to be writing a 1500 word essay. Do you think I got started on that shit? Hell no.
And its due tomorrow night.
What is the world coming to? Like what do I have to do to feel like I’m not going bat shit crazy? Go outside and yell in the streets? Tear the whole fucking bedroom apart? Spin around in a circle like a tornado? Pull out all my fucking hair?
This writing exercise actually made me feel better. I guess this beats punching some random person in the face pretending to be walking their dog in the middle of the fucking night when really they’re being the fucking neighborhood watch.