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Some days it feels like the only thing keeping me alive is the song "The Living Bubba" by DBT. I need something more. I need to pull myself out of the shit. Maybe when my classes start things will get better, or maybe it'll be just as hard to drag my ass out of bed for them.
I want to yell at everyone in my life right now. I want to read Danielle the riot act. I want to tell her that I am through being there to calm her down just to have her decide to stay with her abusive pothead loser boyfriend and then call me with the same damn shit a week later. Fuck that. I'm so tired of having her blow off our plans because she doesn't want to leave the house for fear he'll go fuck his ex.
Let him fuck the bitch. You babysitting him isn't going to do shit except make him resent you. I have been the cheater before. I know how this shit works. If he's going to fuck around, he's doing it while you're at work.
I want to yell at B for spending so much time playing stupid video games when he could be out making friends and networking at his new base. I love him, but what a fucking waste he is right now. God gave him that huge mind for something more than GINORMO SWORD.
J picked me up just before midnight last night. I was over at his house until about 4 AM. We had a good time, listened to vinyl and laughed a lot. But even being around him wasn't enough to break me out of how oppressively sad I've been lately. This is on my new, doubled dose of Prozac.
I've updated my profile on the dating site I use, desperately hoping that someone will want to talk to me, possibly meet in person, introduce me to their group of friends, and sort of take me under their wing. I have never been this lonely in my entire life. I'm hoping I meet people in my pottery class. I'm hoping that I can find some way to survive.