Tired
I'm tired of being a loser. I'm tired of getting drunk every weekend and then every other possible day of the week. I'm tired at putting down time and energy into shit, which still won't pay off. I'm tired of people around me, and I'm tired of constantly having too little money, disappearing too fast. Someone told me to get a haircut, get a job and be happy. Some day, some time, I will.
Better Off Without Them
The grass is always greener at the other side of the field, the honey sweeter, the women finer, and the men more handsome. But let's be realistic about it — I've never met a rich happy-bastard outside the fairy tale. Money is misery, so you're better off without it. Me, I prefer being happily miserable till I get my first few millions. Then I can afford just being miserable.
Me Against the World
Sometimes it feels like it's me against the world. I think someone should stand up and fight, rise up against them, but there doesn't seem to be anyone there but me. I'd like to show them all, just once and for all, and I would. But they're just too many, and I'm only one. Without friends you're nothing — it's you against the world.
Without choice
I like being without choice. Without choice I'm easy — I do what I have to and there's not much to whine about. But you get depressed, constantly being without choice. Sometimes I need options.
robin