Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Oh I can't tell you how much I fucking hate you. Except that if I could measure it, it'd be approximately the volume of the Pacific Ocean, plus the lava that's been emitted from the Pacific Ring of Fire since time began.
You have absolutely no idea, you egoistic, proud bastard. How the more you try to cling on to me, the more I'll rebel, the more I'll get back at you. The more I want to stab you. But because I can't, I'll resort to something much worse. You don't see it yet, (HAHAHA), but soon you will. Soon you'll see what I've been planning all these years. Flip the newspaper today, and read the article of the 22-year-old boy that died in a car accident. That could've been me. That might be me in a few days time. You fucking don't count your blessings. And you fucking still don't get it.
What do I want? I want to fucking get drunk, damn it.
But I still hate you. After all these years. The feeling never changed.