#1 ·
I’m just some messed up kid who’s spent his whole life making nothing but wrong moves. I hate how people live these days, and frankly, it pisses me off. That’s why I’ve chosen pure destruction. I refuse to let the system swallow me whole. Why? Because it’ll just suck me in, chew me up, and spit me out. For me, drugs are where the meaning is. I’m a victim of addiction, and honestly, I don’t care. It was my choice. Eternity from the mine, and that's my right. You guys probably feel sick seeing me, because I am everything you’re running away from. So go ahead, run. I’m fed up with all of you—fed up with those fake smiles you never take off, fed up with your obsession with always being "on," and sick of how too proud you all are. Your constant sucking up, the designer clothes, the perfect hair... it all irritates me. I’m sick of the tuxedos and that forced sophistication. I might be a wreck, but you’re worse. You look pathetic in your desperate need to be accepted. You'll swallow anything just to climb the social ladder. You're just snakes wrapped in polite manners and hollow morality.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.
Every time I tried to be a "decent person" by your standards, I failed miserably, and I ended up hating myself for even trying.
I’m exhausted by you people and your endless prejudices and stereotypes. You refuse to see reality. All you care about is yourselves and your polished egos.
And don't get me started on those mindless clones posing in overpriced bistros; they’ll probably just marry for a paycheck. They don't give a damn about love; they just want the cash. Some are so clueless they don't even realize they aren't in love—they're just in love with themselves, clinging to some guy who exists solely to cater to their childish whims.
You dream of trips to Mauritius or Bali. Why? Just to snap a few photos to prove your "status" and show everyone you can live high on the hog.
You’re totally oblivious and pretty damn stupid.
All you do is want. You're constantly terrified of being left behind, feeling that pressure to fit in. Every once in a while, you toss a couple of bucks to some poor soul and think you’ve done a good deed. Poor Jadnicak, he's got nothing to eat.
What do you actually have? Nothing but obligations. You’re shackled, and your souls are miles away from freedom. You lost yourselves a long time ago.
Your lives are just templates. You’re machines. Every morning is a carbon copy. The alarm goes off, you get up, brush your teeth, and shove your feet into expensive—yet somehow still depressing—shoes, tightening a tie that defines your look but actually strangles you.
It reminds me of people going to the gym...
Is that really living? Is there any beauty in that?
Is luxury your only goal? Not eating at a local burger joint, but insisting on some five-star restaurant instead. What will you say when you retire? What will you say on your deathbed?
Whose life have I lived? You will all umrecet happy.
Honor to the exceptions.
I won't be surprised if you kill this thread or ban me.
Take care.