I’m so tired and still have so much to do. In the past week, I’ve written about 25 pages for multiple classes for which I have no care about. I have a final tomorrow at 1 that normally warrants a review sheet, but I’m apathetic to the point that I’ll go cold turkey into it and just take whatever I get. I’m tired of working. I’m tired of offending people with the things I say when it’s not me that’s being offensive, but their being too sensitive. I’m sick of people thinking I’m cocky when my personality is just one giant fucking joke to make me feel better about all the shit I have to put up with daily. I’m just really, really fucking sick and tired of being sick and tired.
Having sex in the morning, your love was foreign to me. It made me think maybe human is not such a bad thing to be. But I just laid there in protest, entirely fucked. It’s such a stubborn reminder; one perfect night’s not enough.