Someone told me today that I have no right to be depressed. Since there are starving people in the world and war ravaged lands. Let's see there are people who have no access to food, or clean water, or clothing, or warmth, or shade, or medicine, or sanctuary from violence and I am supposed to be happy about it? So the world is fucked, I'm all alone, broke, hooked on cigarettes, out of shape, jerking off twice a day, fucked up friends, dying relatives, parents losing their minds, debt engorging my ass, beseiged by ignorant tourists, not officially living anywhere, and can't seem to quiet my brain so I can sleep unless I bathe it in alcohol. But you get laid by pretty girls. And you can afford to drink and smoke. And you have a cool job and your smart, blah, blah, blah.

Your right I feel all fuzzy and warm inside. Life is a wonderful basket of fun. Yippeeee. Yaaaaay. I luv you.