N canceled our trip today last minute. I’m left here pondering and sulking about the unreliability of people. I’m left wondering why humans have to be so disappointing; sure, I’ve been disappointing myself at times, but I can identify myself as a considerate person. She had well over a week to prepare for this day trip and do her school work. If she texts me, I’m going to let her know how I feel. Far too old to be hiding things from people.
Far too old to be dwelling on the question of whether people value me as a friend or not. My boyfriend said to give her the benefit of the doubt, since she’s never canceled anything before. At the same time, what she did is no excuse; poor behavior management skills. When I get back from the islands, I am sure that her and M are going to ask to go out to dinner, and I am going to respond by saying that they should go have fun on their own, because I am done spending money on eating out for a long time.
That’s the trick; I am just another victim of the capitalist corporate world. I enslaved myself with student debt, thinking that I would have a better life if I went to college. And perhaps that is true; I may have a better chance than others since I have my education, but that does not gurantee me, or anyone, anything.

I am tired of hearing how tired everyone else is of the world. Hell, I’m even tired of hearing myself say that. Maybe Barbie was right; all life is to suffer and die. I wanted to be the optimistic person and disagree with him. Building a better life for myself starts with the way that I control my thoughts. At the same time, as much as I hate this system, the undying hope within me is that of making it through my aunt’s project. But knowing her unpredictability, the hope might just die. Maybe I am just like every other pathetic human; waiting and hoping for something to come, which will never come, to make things better. This hope within me is more so a desire of revenge against everyone who said that I would never be somebody in life. A victory against everyone who wants the same things that I want, but will not get them. This was supposed to be the most historic of life events for me, the chance that I long for in life. But that train never came…my spirit was under the illusion that it would come to pick me up. How many years has it been, now? 2? How many more years do I have to wait? Tomorrow is not guranteed. I loathe the fact that there is absolutely nothing that I can do to be as successful as I want to be, on my own. Relying on others for a monumental success is not going to ever pan out…no matter how many things they tell me. What gets me more is that I want to be a member of this pathetic, insane society of wealth. But I am not. I want to be what I hate…so do I truly hate it? This society and system have caused me nothing but suffering and misery. Now I’m an anxious being. And I am paying the pharmaceutical companies money to numb me from this pain; pain that their corporate friends and government have caused me (and others, believe me I am not alone). Isn’t that the insanity? We pay the system to treat us from the pain that they have caused us. What kind of planet are we living in? Is anything real? Does anything make sense?

I would say that the only people who are truly happy are those who are rich. But I know this to be folly. For I know that there are some who have it all but feel broken inside from reasons that I will never know. I went so far as to call someone “stupid” because I learned, that even though the are married to a wealthy oil business man, they are suffering from a deep depression. But who could feel this way if they have that kind of life? Can I know why? At least let me know why. Then I think about the miserable scumb of the earth that live in the ghetto and have absolutely no ambition or motivation in life. I think of them living their entire lives in the streets, with absolutely no opportunity for them to even do half of the things that I have done in life. Yet, when I think about this, I say to myself that I do not care. I do not care about these people. Why? It’s not about empathy, it’s about wanting better things for myself. I am not going to feel better knowing that there are people who are worse off than I am. It does not affect me in the slightest. Today, my brain asked me if I would like to switch lives with a homeless man. I said “Fuck no.”
God is truly dead. I hate to sound so negative, but how could I stay positive in the kind of world that we are living in? How could I stay positive with the way that humans are? How could I? I am open to suggestions, I am open to criticism. I am not the type of person to point the finger and withdraw when facing criticism. I can dish it and take it at the same time. I’ll manage. I’ll find a way to manage. What choice do I have? Suicide? What for? I find it amazing that some of us would rather stay here and continue to suffer in this world rather than kill ourselves. If I had the strenght, I would have killed myself a long time ago. Which brings me to ask myself: Have things gotten better since? Does it truly “Get better” as they say? Or is that reserve only for those people who make it in life after facing the storm? What about the people who face the storm all of their lives? What about the people who face the storm only to all of a sudden die? To those who say “It gets better,” it does not get better. It only gets easier to cope with the fact that it may not ever get better. But that’s just how life is. That’s what we have done to ourselves. We cannot truly complain about the world or the systems that opress us if we have enabled it and created it. It makes absolutely no sense at all. The only way people would be right to complain is if they have attempted to change the status quo, and are unable to. Otherwise, you deserve to suffer your miserable, pathetic, consumerist life.

What a shitty day it has been. What a mediocre year.