February 26, 2014
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In the Place of a Poem
All I wanted to do was just write one stupid poem on Xanga on my birthday....
That's it. What's so bad about that? Why couldn't you JUST let me have that?! Why don't I deserve to have even just one stupid little thing work out right today?
Is this all karma or something? If so,
WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO?!
I hope you're happy,
because now this rant is the post that will go down in my Xanga history for my 23rd birthday forever, when it was supposed to be just a gentle poem. It felt nice to write, even just five simple lines. Then like always, it got suddenly stolen from me without any reason or warning.
Well, it's probably just all my fault and I have somehow brought every single one of these things on myself, and I absolutely deserve every bit of this hell I'm getting swept up in... But that's not fair. Because someone or something made me this way, and has offered no help or comfort ever, not once. I fucking TRIED EVERYTHING. I tried EVERY thing from religion to science to drugs and everything in between, but not a single one of them ever worked out for me. I did try though. And I have no proof, because there's no reason to be proud of yourself unless you have a win to show for it. Or a superbowl ring. Another thing that seemed like a personal slap in the face from whatever the hell demonic "God" is ruling over this horrible world with his tight, merciless, power-hungry iron-fist. I just hate everything. I need more drugs.
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