Merry Christmas, shit.

You know what makes me angry?

Not being good. I told AR the other day that it was okay to be complacent. And how about why being complacent shouldn’t be a bad thing. He thought I like being complacent.

I fucking hate it.

I’m right there. Hanging in the middle. THE most mediocre person you will ever meet. I have nothing going for me. Not my weight – my fault. No talent – my fault. No knowledge – my fault. Suck at friendship – my fault. Bad at relationships – my fault.

I’m on the 24th floor and yet again, yet again tempted to fling myself out. I won’t. Fucking optimism.

This is not a suicide note – this is the mediocre, will-power-stripped rant of the absolutely unremarkable person you will meet. I can promise you that even the most optimistic ones of you will find NO good in me.

Yeah you have a good time and all. Drink.

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