It's funny how sometimes I feel like I'm the saddest, most pathetic person on the planet, and I'm all like, "O Woe Is Me" and shit, but then I open my eyes and I look at what's all around me.
I guess really, nobody has it easy.
Some people seem happier than pigs in shit, but deep down inside, something's eating away at them too.
Other people are just obviously in a bad place.
Like the poor guy I've seen twice now stick his hand in a garbage dumpster at Burger King to snag a used cup to "steal" some soda.
Or the poor guy I saw outside the office building I work in, taking cigarette butts from the ashtray. I guess that's cheaper than buying them.
These guys really know trouble and hardship and pain, but I sit here and whine about how life's given me the cold shoulder all my life and I had to work since I was 16 and working full time kept me from concentrating on school and that I'm lazy by nature and not by choice and ditto for my lack of physical and emotional discipline.
The fifteenth anniversary of my high school graduation falls in a few days.
Fucking A, where the fuck does the time go?
And how could one do so little with so much time?
When's it all gonna give?
We just executed the perpretator of the worst ever act of terrorism on domestic soil.
Don't get me wrong, I'm glad the fucker's dead, but how much of that was an act?
How much of that was him taking the fall for a much larger group or establishment?
Did he act alone?
Or were we just rushing to find the culprit so we can put out a message that America will not be fucked with, especially in our own backyard?
"It's the end of the world as we know it...and I feel fine" - R.E.M.