Death seems so sweet right now.

And I know that sounds like an emo thing to say, but it's the truth. Really. Stopping life seems to be the best exit for me right now because really if I have to sit through one more second of life I might scream. I feel like exploding and crying and laughing and screaming all at the same time and I can't get over how much I just want to die. Nothing works out, my life is shit and so is the everyday emotional state of my personal being. So fuck it, that's what I say. I'm going to just stay in my bedroom for the rest of my life. Sit there, rotting, watching Sweeney Todd and Repo! The Genetic Opera and other epic movies, read some books, eat some food and stay there until I'm 73 and die of old age....or 34 and die of too much aeresol cheese spray (I've never actually tasted it, but I would eat it if I had it, mostly because I could just not do manything and eat it.) Or until I give up and kill myself. Okay, okay, I get it. I'm being suicidal right now, and I very well may not have any idea what true desperation is, but still. I just....whatever. Good bye world and all who inhabit it.

I hate the sun

I really really do. I took my little sister to the pool today. She had a good time, and I got caught up on my reading, so it was good. Except...I couldn't find the sunscreen. So we went sunscreenless. You know where this is going. She's fine. Hardly burnt at all. My shoulders, however, are killing me. Like, death by pain. Owww.

On top of that I'm pretty tired too. And that is why I hate the sun. And so, I cut this complainitory post short, for I have zippo inspiration and no energy to think. Adieu, mes amis.