Why Can’t Everyone Fuck Off and Die???

I clearly fucked up somewhere navigating this stupid reality. Or it’s possible God just hates my guts, and toys with me like I’m some loser rescue-cat obsessed with playing in old Domino’s pizza boxes, meowing desperately when no one’s fed me a bowl of tuna for at least 17 minutes.

Back in the good ol’ days, before my brain became somewhat enlightened and aware (EDITOR’S NOTE: NOT ENLIGHTENED OR AWARE!), shit just rolled easy peasy. Everything fell into my lap with minimal to zero effort… the bitches were all over me, my mural painting business was rocking, my band was rocking even harder, and I didn’t give two fucks about asking the deeper questions about Life, the Universe, and something else from a Douglas Adams title.

I don’t really understand how developing a greater empathy for humans has shunted me into an isolation box.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m much more content putting other people’s priorities before my own, but just don’t understand why being more attentive and caring locks me out of my golden ticket familiarity of getting whatever the fuck I want whenever the fuck I want it.

Whatever.

Fuck you and your irony God!

I really can’t wait to work another 10 hour shift tomorrow. Or today, whatever the time is. Insert facetious emoticon graphic here.

That’s it. That’s the rant. It’s short, I don’t care, fuck off and die.

Also, love you!!!