Realizing how much I hate where I am and what I’m doing.
This is not what I want to do—I don’t even know what I want to do. I just want to do something, for once, that makes me happy. I want something that I love, anything.
It’s pathetic that I can’t just do what I want do do, but I can sit here and bitch meaninglessly about how much I hate everything and want something to change but refuse to actually make those changes or do something about anything I hate.
I don’t even really know what the purpose of this is. The purpose of me typing words that I’m never going to read again, or anyone for that matter.
It’s all meaningless.
All of it.
In the end, what were we anyway?
(Source: ilivetomake-youfree)
