And my parents are freaking out over this cat. They just can’t shut up. Fucking retards.

And there’s news about China’s market on TV.

And I am antsy beyond measure, and need a lot of beer to calm down (alcoholism) or lots of coffee to feel good (decaf, not a caffeine addiction).

My life is over. It’s just fucking over. I have no friends, no one to talk to, I am owned by my parents, the state doesn’t pay me for disability I’m legally entitled to because they’re fucking fat slow and lazy, and I can’t even booze out because of my meds and mental illness. Or fucking whatever.

I just have no life. I don’t have a job because what shit work would suit someone neuro atypical like me. I can’t do anything, remember?

So yeah. I’m just fucked. I’m as good as dead.

CJ had a point. Either live your life in discrepancy with your ideal self and be a liar, with mediocre depressive nonsense, or kill yourself.

Looking more and more toward the latter.

We’ll see.

Oh yeah, fucking forgot: Tag post for barely any hope to meet lonesomes.

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