I keep having these moments full of "this is really my life" thoughts. yep. I'm having another one right now. This really REALLY is my life. It's no wonder to me why I act the way that I do. I'm not happy. I'm bored most of the time (as I sit here still in my pajamas watching a horrible MTV show). Most the time I want to punch every person I encounter in the face. Life in suburbia is so fake it sickens me. the people. the everything. Nothing feels real to me. Maybe that's why I do the things that I do, smoke, drink, hide. What choice do I really have? Should I put blonde streaks in my hair, wear half the clothing and go tanning regularly. Maybe I should get a lobotomy and sit in a padded cell drooling. If I had the choice I think I would probably choose the latter. but the problem i have with life seems a bit more complex to me. i don't hate myself. i hate my living situation. i hate my job. i hate that there is nothing to do here. but i can't help but think that it's the same thing everywhere.

this thought process is too much for me right now.