MOTHERFUCKER BLOGGER FUCKER ASSHOLE BLOGGER
Yeh, well, fuck.
It sucked anyway, but I spent an hour writing it. The least blogger could have done was save it.
I’ll sum it up:
Life isn’t precious at all. DIE ALL YOU WANT, WE’LL MAKE MORE. I’m sure when I get to wherever we’re all going that I’m going to hear chuckles, “Damn, I thought you peaked at around 8 or 9… why the fuck did you hang around that long?”
Yes, I’m responsible for my boredom. It’s my fault that my only joy in life is a cigarette and I hate the cigarette because it doesn’t bring me any joy.
My mother said that to me once, “My only joy in life is smoking.”
It’s very sad that people miss her… I miss her… God knows I’ve needed her, but she got out at 55… it cost her a bunch of pain, but she had a few extra happy years (being somewhat out of her mind)… Before then she was obviously miserable from time to time.
We don’t have a responsibility to the human race to survive. The day I overcome my feeling of responsibility to the people I personally know, I’m out of here.
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