Sometimes I don't really know what else to type but angst. I really don't consider myself an angsty person. Just unhappy and frustrated. Very frustrated.
But generally very caring.
I guess I just haven't had many spare moments to show it.
Mostly I guess I feel exhausted by it all. Exhausted by the optimism. I don't know why.
It exhausts me. Loving exhausts me. It feels so much more draining than hating.
In a strange way.
I'm unhappy being unhappy. I'm happy when I'm happy.
But blogging is different. I'm unhappy when it's a bad post. I'm happy when it's good.
And there's something so truthful about unhappiness that makes a post good.
I'm addicted to truth.
Pessimistic Optimistic Happy Sad
I'm addicted to truth.
It's true. No one really cares about the happy posts; they like to read about the shit days. Goddamn people. Hate society. Hate humans. I want to be a hermit. >: (
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