lolsofunny:

(via wtfsofunny)

There’s been so much. And I want to say I’m happy. But I don’t really know if I can fully commit to that. I don’t really have a reason. I think I never have a reason for any of the ways I feel; I’m depressed, but I’m alive. I’m happy, but I don’t deserve it. I haven’t accomplished anything this year. Not one damn thing. But right now, I don’t give a single fuck. Pardon my tone, but I really don’t care. Maybe that’s my issue still… I don’t care. About anything. Ever. I could care less what happens tomorrow, so long as I’m enjoying today. I live for the moment. I don’t have any clue where I’m going. I’m shocked as an eel that I actually went to college and haven’t dropped out and run away from the nothing I have left. Sometimes I wish she was still here so I would have a reason to run. Those cliche thoughts, that hate is better than nothing. Yeah, I complained almost the whole way but not anymore. I’m glad I did it. Every up and every down makes the ride more exciting. Holding hands and skipping stones. My dad got me a job at the office for the summer and he told me the other morning, “You know, if you keep this up you could work here after graduation for a living!” I’ll be damned if I do this for the rest of my life. At first I thought that’s what people went to school for, to find themselves a quaint little cubical in the middle of the city where they went to die. But now I realize that I’m going to school so I can run away, so I can get my final escape. I don’t want that robotic lifestyle. I’ll stick to it so I can figure out whatever it is I will do. My future holds nothing but shadows at this point. I’m alone in pretty much every aspect you can think of. But right now, that’s all okay. It’s not about where you’re going. It’s about where you are. And right now I’m here. I’m at the end of a decent year and the beginning of an endless summer. I’m living up my cliche younger years and I’m trying to love every single minute. Granted it’s not all a ride in the ice cream truck, but I’m trying my damnedest. Slowly but surely I’m shedding that freaking shell. That shell of anxiety, and nerves, and paranoia, and depression. Without the help of being called crazy. But you know, so what if I’m crazy? So what if I’m not the cookie cutter young woman. I wouldn’t ever want to be. Time keeps speeding up and I’m trying so damn hard to slow it down. I know I can’t so I just take it as I will. I don’t care if I don’t have a plan… a path is always better without a destination. I’m just now starting my path, and I’ll be damned if I leave any footprints.

Why do I even write theseeeeeeee? Tumblr is a diary I’m not ready to write in. Shit be cray. Now I really want to watch me some drunk kitchen. Heck yeah. My dog is my best friend.