What the FUCK was I thinking?

As the title suggests, what the fuck was I thinking?! I was typing my ass-made dream off into a blog, and to top that, even added the greatest jerk ever as a reader! Damn. I know I'm supposed to be strong and all, but damn. I'm already near breaking point.

And I allowed only a few friends to be able to read said rant. Damn! I need to get wasted... and laid. Getting wasted is top priority right now. Once I'm at the dorm again, I'm going to drink my ass off, cry about everything else, then ask my room mate to ease my suffering. And no, I'm not going to ask them to get me laid. Not even close. I'd just give them lots of weapons to choose from.

Sigh.

It's not helping. I couldn't even ask councelling from my room mates, for the following reasons:

1. I'm shy with asking help, especially when it comes to my own issues.

2. I don't want them to worry much.

3. I want them to enjoy the summer without them worrying about me.

4. I have no means of contact.

I lean towards reason #4. I mean, I had my phone dead for, like, 5 days straight. I couldn't even touch the charger! Damn. I couldn't even go online because the house needs me to do their every beck and call.

In short, I am deprived of rest. And alcohol. Definitely that.

And to those reading this, I need emotional support. Preferably personally delivered. I've been (semi)crying my eyes out this morning, and tonight won't be any better. My entire mind (neglect the biological processess, breathing and the likes) was clouded with thoughts like that! In short, I've been rendered retarded!

Damn.

Back to the title, What the FUCK was I thinking. That might bear repeating... WHAT THE FUCK WAS I THINKING! I shouldn't have invited him to read that fucking entry!

Well, as if he's going to read it anyway. If he does read it, it's up to his close-minded, egoistic, bastardic, annoying persona to think of some out of this world thought.

And, if I might guess right, he would probably laugh his ass off, saying that I'm really, really dying of his attention. Which is, as you might've guessed, not true. Yes, it's not true. I have a life, kids. I don't breathe thoughts about him. I don't live by thinking of him. NEVER did he be a big part of my thoughts any day. Although it was my room mates whom I discuss the issues (and I was not always the one who initializes said discussion. Only a few times... Honestly!), I only partake because they [my room mates] annoy the hell out of my with accusations and such. And no, I'm not saying it's a bad thing. Actually, it was quite fun, despite me being annoyed and pissed every now and then, but I guess they would say that it's quite normal for me to feel pissed and annoyed every now and then. They never did see me very angry (although on two popular occassions did they see me extremely agitated, and I think they're laughing their asses off because of what I write when I am angry), and hopefully they never will. I'm not exactly the nicest, if ever the most evil, person when angry. At least I minimally resort to dry humor.

I'm just rambling. Damn. Well, anyway, at least to those who are willing to share my sentiments, and would most likely to attend my funeral when social condemnation day comes, please send my regards. I really, really need your emotional support. In short, I need help. Serious help.