That's what I've been saying to myself lately. It's been days and weeks and months and I still couldn't forgive myself for being the epitome of the word stupidity (and I'm talking about extremes here). I just could not stop hating myself. It's an endlessly daily routine that I wake up with a self-inflicted anger and that I sleep self-immolated to pain.
I'd rather share it with people personally than rant it over here though. But still, it doesn't make me any less stupid than before. Fuck life for being so pointless, no, love for that matter I guess. Or is it really love? Or just a higher hierarchy of stupidity? Whatever goes.
I loathe myself for that.
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Maya. It's a very interesting place, or rather, state. By being false, the world becomes perfect. This is in no way connected with any of my unedited blog posts, but I'm quite sure you're going to have an amusing read.
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