Sorry there Bro’s and Dudes and Dawgs. Allow me to pass out some soft double ply tissues with Aloe, and some Johnson’s and Johnson’s Baby Shampoo with the “No-Tears” formula. Perhaps once you all have a good cry about how horrid your lives are, you’ll find something better to do than search random stranger’s live journals. I mean, really now, I don’t go up to you, and press all of my albeit petty problems, while you get all of your sad, yet strong, striving, trudging, and starving friends to tell me I’m wrong and pathetic for what I wrote in my journal, and then dump your problems on me in buckets, simply yearning to make me change my ways, and rethink how lucky I have it, by drowning me in pity and a lack of self achievement. Well it worked. I have changed my ways forever. No longer will I ever complain about how good I have it, no matter how tainted it may get, because there is always someone worse off then me. Oh yes, I now see the light. And O! Is it bright! Please Anunnaki, forgive me, for I have changed my ways!
No. No no.
This is a live journal. If anyone were to ever take these seriously, they should not be granted the right to procreate. Yes, I dislike it here at home. It bites compared to college. Oh, he’s a spoiled kid, he goes to college. Damn straight.
All my spoiled friends go to college with me, we all have fun living our spoiled kid college lives, getting an education, and working to become someone who doesn’t have to play breed in the box with thirty other urban outdoorsmen. I’m sure it’s hard living without parents. It’s not a cakewalk with them, so you should keep your opinions for more productive uses, not for trying to plaster people with pity stickers.
Now perhaps some of you just didn’t have the fortune to grow up in a semi-stable household. You can’t blame yourself, but you shouldn’t blame me, and if you really did learn anything from your experiences, you probably wouldn’t want to wish it apon anybody else, so go take another wack at it Thug.
And, if your life is so unfortunate, and you have to spend so much time and blood working just to feed your fourteen kids that are only sixteen years younger than you are, maybe you should stop paying for internet to read and comment annonymously on random people’s live journals. Some people, yes, need the internet for their jobs, their family, and school. Hell, it’s even a recreational device. But if you need to complain to a “spoiled brat” about how every day you wake up to feel dread, and wish that the world would show you just a little remorse, you need to take the initiative to unplug the ethernet cable and re-evaluate your life. Unless you enjoy Emo, then you can just use a barbed wire fence as a trampoline. Nothing will ever stop you from crying.
Oh, and about my friends who glance at this once in a while, you should all probably understand me as a very compassionate, and most importantly, good-humored whimsical sort of guy who prefers blithe over balance, and know, while much of what I say is true, it really doesn’t bother me much more than a warm blooded annoyance. It’s these outsiders who seem to get too concerned.
To sum up all this critical debate, I please ask all of you to go to the following website.
And now, for your moment of Zen:
Well link head I guess you’ll never change. You’re just really amusing you know that. lol. Now I suppose weird random people reading your journal are making your live miserable. *shakes head* I pity you and your life. Especially your attitude and outlook. Grow up