... they said. But, is it?
Now, I am known (strictly to myself) to be an inexpressive bastard. I have a habit of covering up in unnecessary complexities that leave the unresolved... well, a mile farther from being resolved. Well, I am right here today at this precise minute and this exact clock strike to state one thing, and one thing only, which is;
I am tired of this shit.
All of it.
One would ask me what exactly it is that's tiring about shit. Or if one is a snark, he'd state that no one is really glad of the presence of shit in life. And to both, my reply would be the following: Fuck. Off.
Yea... anger management now?
I thought I love the professional opportunities thrown at me every other day. I thought they were all blessings that I'd feel guilty if I did not seize them. I often questioned their sudden existence, but disregarded the suspicions and left it in the hands of high power of wisdom.
But, hey, now I know! They're a curse! Or a mere reminder that all what I thought I believed in is as profound as a Pitbull song. So, here I am, having loads to do, discarding what's left of the depth of my being, failing something that I am not aware of and most of all, not having the least bit of fun in my life.
I am 20 years old.
