I’ve come to the realization that I’m COMPLETELY unsatisfied with my existence.
And I’m okay with that.
There wherein the problem lies:
I’m so painfully acquiescent. Even to the point of plain laziness.
Like, I’ve always been passive I guess.
I mean, I never let anyone punk me, but I’ve always been just,
If not in demeanor, then definitely at heart.
And now I’m sick of it.
All of it.
This sad excuse of a life that I’m trodding through
It’s almost detestable.
I’m just, here.
And even as I type this, I find it hard to care.
My hair is nappy, the short I’m wearing are dirty.
I don’t have a shirt on, and I plan on taking a nap as soon as I get done typing.
I just need to fucking WAKE UP and be done with this sedentary period.
I here by resolve to FUCK SHIT UP RELENTLESSLY (metaphorically speaking) until the standards I have in my head are in total alignment with my reality.