bad mood alert. read at your own risk.

wow. second day in a row in a long endless row of weeks where id rather turn off and tune out…in the way that relaxing=tuning out. been super stressed lately, and angry., apparently for no good reason. theres a good reason but who knows. could it be the folowoing: i need to chill the fuck out before i go perma crazy….

the reality seems to be: if i dont get a good block of days off sadly i feel like im drowning.. because it is… ready to pull the cord and jump the fuck outta this bitch… escape hatch style.

no dreams to share. no issues to write about. this is it for this entry. i really feel liek saying fuck new york and everyone in it.so here it goes: fuck newyork and every asshole here. fuyck you and yours.

was there ever a realistic episode where carrie bradshaw saw new york for the cesspool of shit and stress that it is?  all i remember is her prancing around crooked shnozz  first and sucking random cock in prada heels. also; i didnt watch the show enough for that detail of reality to rear its ugly head . that ——  alwasy had desginer and a perfect apartment that she somehow afforded on a “writers” salary. if reality had shown itself she should ahve been living in brooklyn sharing a 1 bedroom with 3 cats and an old hag. ethe toilet would ahve been in the hallways. the shower woul dahve been in the living room. and the neighbors would be yelling and scremeing all night long. she would have had to ride the train 2 hours back and forth to get to her fabulous parties..and shed never be invited to them anyway. every episode she would ahve struggled for that one night stand. dont forget the reality of second hand never designer from beacons. and having 4 others jobs to make ends meet. thats reality. bitch.

herse where id like my reality to go.

i imagine myself on a secluded island with nature and not another living soul. no body. no one. nada. zip. zero. the end.

that is paradise. paradise is wihout people. nobody. quiet. clean. no trash. or shit. or crack heads.

instead of my current reality. i gotta get outta this place. ive been talking about it forever. the successful people only come to theire secluded weathy parts of new york for short periods of time. eat at the four seasons and then fly out again.  thats right. they  LEAVE. no one thats of sound mind stays here. how couldy ou?? you have to be paranoid schizo delusion to want to share airtime with these freaks.

im a nice person trapped in a world fo assholes. and yes there are other nice people trapped here too. but the assholes run this shit. and thats sad to me.

alright. ognne crawl back into my hole. hopefully never to be found. distrub me at your own risk.

a very pissed off, tired , aggrevated and depressed

odiemama.

so much for honesty.

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