I’ve spent allot of time building up the curage to watch Prozac Nation. Fearing it might be too much reality for me? It could just as well been my name on that book, for the first time in my entire life I felt that I wasn’t alone. But then again I felt we were completly different, she still had that tiny bit of will and hope I so severely lack. I still feel alone without my hope. But still, seing the mother in the movie was especially strange. No matter what Lizzie did, her mother reacted the exact same way my mother has done these past years. But parents are always the last ones to get it right? It’s not like we talk about it in any serious way. Opening up is death, thinking that everyone will know your weakness. Taking everything to the grave seems a much better idea. Everyone knowing would just be a fate worse then death.

After a decade of clinical depression your mind makes up it’s own shit. And no one will ever understand really. We like to think therapists do, and they probably think they do too. If you’ve been in that place before, you sure as hell don’t know shit about it. Only when you’re smack in the middle of your own fucking suicide other people like you can get it. And kind of not then even. I hate knowing exactly why I’m rewening my own life, just makes it harder during the black nights to try and kill yourself again.

I sometimes wonder if my life would change if I decided to take anti-depressants. Seems more like a fairytale ending when prozac makes it better. I think I’d try to kill myself again anyway. It never gets better, it’s just a show for your brain with little green and yellow pills in the starring roles. It doesn’t get any better then this

Well here I am. I haven’t even made it to my life’s first quarter and I’ve run my life into the grown, ruined all hopes for a future, and is so suicidal the state is panicing on my case. And how does one manage to do this you ask? Here’s a fucking mini-guide:

First you run your life into the grown:
- fail every class in school or get yourself as good as fired from your job
- take tons of time off without any reason, simply because your disease won’t allow you to move or be around people. can you be as good as me and get 20 days and 100+ hours in only a couple of months which have included holidays?
- make sure you get as many people you can to dislike you. if you’re lucky, you can even get some people to hate you!
- break all contact with people you may have used to spend time with. be extra mean and get them to spend rumours about you, that means less work for you to perform!
- make your parents go insane. talk about wierd shit, isolate yourself and break stuff around the house.
- spend more money then you have

Then you have to ruin all hope for youreself for any kind of future:
You’re already without an education and/or job, and no one likes you (add the word ‘anymore’ if you’re a faggot poser). so here’s how you should continue.
- Command your brain. You must get it to actually achknowledge that you’re a worthless piece of shit and you’re only taking up space here on earth.
- Make a plan not to have a nice time anymore. That means you have to dump your unspecial someone (if you’re with such a big loser he/she hasn’t already dumped you and your emo antics) and isolate your rotting corpse completly. No more hugs, cuddling, kissing, sex (only with yourself, after a while you will find out this is dirty and wrong and it will only help you get even closer to your suicide), touching in any positive way etc.
- Get a horrible disease. Cancer or AIDS is great, but tiring seing as they can elongate your life at a hospital. If you’re real lucky your brain will by now have given you wierd symptoms no one can explain!
- Decide when you want to commit suicide and then talk allot about it to any person that has not already been driven far enough away, this will help you get he/she the hell off your ass
- Start planning your suicide!

This isn’t bulletproof, but if you want it to work you’re probably already troubled. If you’ve had years of people being generally evil, daily beatings, no one that understands and extreme pressure from the people that pretend to care, you’re in for a real good start. Now let’s start feeling dead inside!

I despise the question “So what are you doing for new years?”. It seems everywhere I go lately people ask me this question. Assuming I have a plan, people that barely know me take the liberty to ask thinking it would be a nice change from discussing the weather. But what if I don’t have a plan? It would by far show me as the social outcast I am, so I reply “I don’t know yet” and they look a way in embarassment, knowing they’ve struck a nerve.

So what’s so wrong with spending this one evening out of the entire year alone? Is loneliness really a tabu? On any other day of the year, you don’t have to do anything special, let alone spend it with “friends”. As long as you ‘go out’ a couple of times a year, spend some time with other people, you’re fine, but as soon as you spend new years alone, you’re a freak.

So with all this pressure, not just from semi-strange people, but from my parents as well, I’ve been dreading this day for as long as I’ve known everyone I used to spend it with before thinks I’m a slut and therefore hates me. Could I actually, in just a few hours, after listening to happy people roam the streets, laughing in their drunkeness, hate every single human being more then ever?

I may not have that much of a choice, but this surtain eve from hell will be my fuck you to the world and all it’s doomed people. I will get terribly terribly drunk, with only my own company to keep, and dream that all of you fucking asswipes will die a horrible death, locked inside a house at your party and that I will be the last person on earth.

Fuck this year, the next one will be a fucker for sure. And fuck you too