argh

Again I find myself staring at the screen, skin burned from cooking, hand scratched from playing the guitar, eyes dying from contact lenses. I sit and wonder what I’m really doing with my life and why I can’t seem to get anything right. I consider all the things that I’ve done, looked at the mistakes and achievements and yet I see nothing that could escalate to the state at which things are at now.

I’ve come up with one logical explanation to this. I just love being depressed. I love crying, I love the pain. Heck, I love it so much I go out and seek it. I love arguing, I love fighting. It sounds like I hate being loved and I hate being happy. Trust me, those are good things while they last. But because of this strange way that I think, I’m just one big screw up.

Figures that sooner or later, everything comes crashing. I’m back to the point of wishing that I was never born.