Here is a half finished blog post I found in my drafts from December 2010. It’s weird looking back on a moment and not knowing how I could have possibly felt so bitter. I mean I still agree with some of the statements now, but I seem to only look at the things discussed with apathy rather that anger or frustration now. Maybe I’m growing up? Or maybe – and more likely – I just don’t have feelings any more? Ha.
Self indulgent bullshit
At the risk of sounding like a stereotypical depressed teenager: I fucking hate my life. I really do. I hate this tiny town and the monotony if it’s daily nothingness. I hate every person I know, not just the odd person I hate them all. Every egotistical opinionated one of them. Half the people I know are either shallow, annoying or stupid or a combination of the three.
I hate my job. The no prospects black hole that is. It’s going nowhere. I work in a pub and while I know that I’m only 18 and I’m hardly expecting to work here forever but I’d at least like a little excitement from time to time. The people I work for are a collection of some of the most irritating people I’ve ever met, I wont go into detail because it bores me thinking about them, fuck knows what you’d think.
Anywaaaay things are pretty good at the moment. I’m pretty happy, I’ve found someone.
He is not a normal guy, he is different, interesting, complex, mysterious even.
I don’t get him, I think that might be the attraction.
Over and out 😉