I'm fucked off. It's Sunday.
I've stopped smoking, and right now it feels like I'm having a heart attack. Aaargh.
I go back to work tomorrow to continue a job I never thought I'd end up doing but didn't actually mind until I went on holiday, and when I returned it had become dull.
I got plastered on Friday, and have subsequently spent two days pretty much at home doing fuck-all.
So here's a list of anger...
You utter cuntmunch. I want to succeed in life. I want to right my wrongs, be a better person, realise my talents, and spread infectious love and happiness.
But I can't be bothered.
I know for a fact that if/ when I get to a senile and (even more) introspective age, I will utterly regret not having had enough sex. But not through lack of trying, oh no. It's because I clearly have all the sexual allure of a desk.
Discovering GWAOTM momentarily shook up my life. She reminded me that I could work long hours and still cram in time to socialise, meet people, and perchance get laid.
Except most men don't just go out and get laid, ever. It's simply the same three charming lucky bastards who go out and ruin it for the rest of us.
I've known that for years.
Then I forgot.
And now I remember again.
And remembering that most women are just as shallow as me is really annoying.
One snog, that's all I wanted. Just one. For two minutes. With a nice lady. Just to enjoy being single and meeting a likeminded person. Nothing too much to ask.
As teenagers, full penetrative sex was the Holy Grail. Now I have regressed to just wanting a kiss from someone pretty, like I was 14 again. And even that still totally escapes me, despite trying.
I hate you. You killed my Grandma and took my sister in her thrall. I was always anti you. Then one day I too learnt to love you and forgot the past. Now I can't give you up.
You're like some kind of drug.
Shit, shit, shit.
Great in principle: 'Hey, I'm single, you too, let's hook up!!', but shit in practice: 'We're all so desperately lonely and this is our last futile stab at happiness even if it is hopelessly clinical and forced and does nothing for spontaneity or fate.'
Plus all the women I like don't look at my profile in return.
Just like in real fucking life.
I don't phone my Mum or Dad that often.
I fell out with my Sister and have not spoken to her since March.
I've got to 32 and have acheived Fuck All. Large Older Flatmate talked about people with hideous disabilities in a bizarre attempt to cheer me up, but that just depressed me further.
I could be doing little things with my Sunday in preparation for the rest of the week but I can't be bothered.
I'm pining for ex-girlfriends because there's no-one else to think about.
I work with six men, and no women and I miss their company.
I should be buying Xmas presents, but instead I'm spending my cash on cigarettes, alcohol, ecstacy and Pringles.
You racist fat fuck. I hope you get hit by an Eddie Stobart truck.
Society being split by bigotry, hatred, religious intolerance, homophobia, racism.
I can't take much more of this.