Wanna know the fucking truth? Nobody is fucking happy. Nobody has skin made from oil paint and sunlight. Nobody fucking understands this world. Fuck, nobody understands math as much as they claim. You’re here one day and the next you’re not. God? Religion? I’ve learned a lot more about the world by eating acid and swallowing pills. Tell me what your church has done for you? Tell me if you have holes in your mouth from speaking lies? Wanna know the fucking truth? Pity is just another word for pathetic. Drink beer and watch the sunrise from every rooftop. Take photographs naked. Take photographs kissing. Take photographs having sex. Stop making everything about sexuality. Wanna know the fucking truth? Nobody really gives a damn if you lost your virginity at fourteen or if you were the president in high school. Wanna know the fucking truth? There is no such thing as the right person. People leave. They change like ocean currents, they leave you with bruises in your calves. And you wanna know the fucking truth? You get better. You learn to love. You find God in between the cracks of a wall when you’re puking your limbs out. You wanna know the fucking truth? Go find it.
not wanting to date someone because you aren’t physically attracted to them doesn’t make you an asshole
wanting to sit at home watching TV instead of hanging out with people doesn’t make you an asshole
cutting off a friendship that was not satisfying to you doesn’t make you an asshole
Relationships do not make me happy.
Being successful and having a banging body make me happy. Time to get back to making that my priority.
And on some small level, I think you owe me something for deceiving me so exquisitely.
The director of the company came in for my end of year assessment today, based on the revenue I’ve brought in for the company in the last three months, he reckons by this time next year I’ll be taking home at least £5000 a month after tax.
So the sacrafice of sleep, mental health, social life and friends won’t have all been for nothing after all.