I really feel like I should and want to write about something, but I just can't muster up the desire or direction to really do it productively. There are plenty of thoughts on my mind right now, but that's nothing new. Things aren't exactly going great, and I've felt this way for quite some time, but for some reason, I no longer feel like I have a right to be upset about it. As if there's some statute of limitations on dissatisfaction with the bullshit and drudgery that makes up my life these days.
I had a pretty good night tonight. Saw some of the people from SGCO at the movie. Succinctly put, that was nice. I didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable, which sadly translated into obnoxious and loud sarcasm for a while. Got out of the house. Saw people. Enjoyed the movie.
So why am I still malcontent?
I had a pretty good night tonight. Saw some of the people from SGCO at the movie. Succinctly put, that was nice. I didn't feel awkward or uncomfortable, which sadly translated into obnoxious and loud sarcasm for a while. Got out of the house. Saw people. Enjoyed the movie.
So why am I still malcontent?
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
kinkerbelle:
Maybe you need to get drunkard, and party your ass off.
eyesofatragedy:
implosion would be a very welcoming experience... id implode.. disapear... and no one would miss me