The last two weeks have been the second shittiest period of my life and it seems that this will be on my menu for a while. It’s been snowballing as if to test me how much I can postpone the insatiable urge to shoot people - five or so - in the fucking mouth.
I used to tolerate all this shit for the sake of making do with the beautiful things I have in my life and with the hope that I can manage to go my way and protect my sanity. Yet, as I’ve experienced, I cannot. Not anymore.
I hate this shitty, narrow-minded country I’m in, and I hate the family I was born into. I hate it when I’m unhappy/frustrated about something, and all I hear is “Well, you know, that’s the way it is.” You know what? Fuck that. I don’t want to be at this side of the table anymore. I’ve never told anyone how to live their lives, and why the fuck am I always watching them imposing their dip shit opinions on mine?
I cannot wait to graduate and earn my own fucking life so that I can get the hell away from this retardation that’s gradually surrounding me.
I don’t want to sound like a complaining discontent asshole, but I hate it.
"My poor father was baffled and afraid. He was unable to believe that there could be anything seriously wrong between us. And this was not only because he would not then have known what to do about it; it was mainly because he would then have had to face the knowledge that he had left something, somewhere, undone, something of the utmost importance."
"Every time she spoke to him she seemed to abandon to him something of herself - something excessively subtle and inexpressible, to which he was infinitely sensible, which he would have missed horribly if she were to go away."