As Bukowski put it: “my ambition is handicapped by laziness.” I honestly do not know what the fuck I am doing, who i’m supposed to be, or what to even look forward to. part of this diatribe merely stems from the fact that I may have finally lost the love of my life, and being as how she was my only muse, I don’t know what the fuck to do.
You are an insufferable asshole. The good thing is, you’ll know it in a few years. In the meantime, shave off that stupid facial hair, burn all of your plaid shirts, and try to spend less time masturbating with your own tears.