out of focus.

I’ve come to terms with this fact and I think that it’s okay. I mean who really needs someone else to be happy?

I am probably going to die sooner than I think. I hope it’s not for a while, but no one knows.

I tried to kill myself in middle school. Sort of. I planned it all out. I got my dad’s keys to the gun cabinet and I was very close to doing it. Since then I’ve gotten such a great respect for life. I’m terrified of dying now.

However sometimes I still think about suicide. I thought about it quite seriously earlier last week. I just felt like, what is there left to do? I’m getting out of high school, going straight into college, and then what?
I have few feasible ambitions, no career track set.

I look at all of these kids going straight into the workforce with envy. They know what they’re doing and they’re let out on their own to do it. I’m stuck in a little podunk town that I’ll hate. I don’t want to make friends there. Everyone there can eat my shit as far as I’ m concerned.

I’m quitting my job. I hate it. I don’t think I’m actually going to tell them I’m quitting until they actually schedule me a shift I can’t work, call me, and then I’ll tell them. I’m probably going to work at AMC again. I hated that place too, but at least I felt welcome there. There’s a mutual feeling of disgust between myself and my co-workers at Walgreens. Everyone pretty much liked me at AMC, I pretty much liked them. Plus working there in the summer is pretty much awesome.

I’m going to try live electronic music once I get my laptop. It will suck and I will learn another lesson about counting my eggs, and all that nonsense.

I think I like a girl. She might like me, but probably likes me less than what she puts on. What am I saying? No one will ever like me like that. I haven’t wanted a relationship of any kind for a while (Presidents’ Day this year, in fact. It was a specific event that kinda turned me off that whole business). But now…maybe it’s the weather. That’s what everyone tells me anyway. I just want someone. I want someone to hold and to love, someone to be there for me, someone to make my last few months of normalcy somewhat memorable.

But it’s not going to happen.

This isn’t a suicide note, so don’t fret. I’m not going to kill myself. I just sort of feel like giving up right now. I don’t particularly feel like seeing any of my friends for a while. I kinda just wanna shut up in my house, let TV rot my mind, browse the internet far too much, read some Vonnegut or Rand or Garcia Marquez or William Blake, masturbate to internet porn because I’ll never experience the real thing.

Living vicariously has been my thing lately. I try to envision I’m the one fucking that semi-attractive girl with gigantic fake breasts. I take what my friends tell me about their sex lives and supplant it into my own fantasies. I’m a sick individual and probably need help.

Around the aforementioned time of Presidents’ Day, I got more depressed than I’ve probably ever been. I wasn’t really suicidal at all, it just seemed like this one event sent my world, this sort of fantastic delusional construct I’ve built around myself to make me feel a little less upset about my life came crashing down on top of me, and I really experienced for the first time what a pathetic mess I am. I thought seriously about going into therapy, but then realized that 1) going through this myself would make me a stronger and ultimately better person, 2) I didn’t feel comfortable confiding in a total stranger and honestly don’t think I could have expressed what I felt into coherent speech, and 3) I don’t think anything a therapist could have told me would have made much of a difference.

I just think that it’s unfair. Unfair that I’m always given the shaft, all of the time. I feel like I’m the only person that bad things ever happen to, when in reality my life is not bad at all. I think maybe that I just can’t be as carefree as everyone else. I dwell too much upon everything. I try to put it behind me but I can’t. Little things just bug me to the point where I just want to curl up in a ball and die or stab myself in the temple or something just so I can stop thinking about it long enough to function properly.