Wolves Riding Bears.

When you're friends with perky people, they generally bitch and gossip about you more than you'd prefer. I have a friend, who will remain nameless, but it's fair to say, his mouth is forever spilling important information that he really shouldn't be telling people. Even to me, which, even though I know I can keep secrets, and wouldn't bitch about a friend, I can tell that if he can just tell me that, he would tell someone else just as easily, and is that person he could be telling reliable? Who knows, but my point is that he's been saying stuff about my private life (and has done for a while) to just his and (I guess) my friends, and I don't think its his place to and then continues to tease me about them. I tell him things because I feel I can trust him, and that he understands me, but clearly, I don't know anyone like that, so I make do with people like him.

And he's the kind of person everyone adores, so you could never NOT be friends with him. And not that I'm complete for that, but the more he does this kind of stuff, the more I just want him to fuck off and never return.

I hate you all. I hate everyone. I hate you. I hate your friends. I hate everyone you know. I hate everyone I know. I hate everything and everyone.

Everything is shit and so is everyone else and I JUST WANT TO DIE.

I'm growing a hatred and a disparaging apathy to everything around me now. I cannot stand or care about a single thing in my life.

My life is pretty much worthless now. It has no perks and I have no sense of fulfillment.
I really want to die.

Morbid, but true. Everything is meaningless and there's nothing we can do to escape it. And when you can't enjoy anything, like I can't, and am constantly under strain from hating everything, you really start to feel it.

Christmas is returning, and I can smell it. The smell of the frosty breeze; there's nothing more enriching to perk your senses up and remind you of your reality, and of how alive you are. The sense of smell is probably the most authentic sense you have. Nothing is more enriching than a beautiful smell. The smell of a boy's deodorant, the cutting whips of Christmas air, the smell of gravy, the fumes of coffee.

Christmas is returning to us all, and I am actually becoming excited over it. It's the best time of the year, seriously. It's so beautifully festive, from the lights to the corny themed shows, to the santa hats. Nothing brings the nation together like Christmas does. It's such a beautifully unifying time.

And I can't wait.

I'm sorry that I ever left you. I got caught up in the glitzy social networkings of Tumblr, but now I've realised that it's not a proper blogging site anymore. So, I think I'll be returning to Blogger. It's somewhere I can blog freely and release all the built up tensions in my life. And unfortunately, they're oddly numbering.

First to start. How I am now. Well, over the last year or so, I've slowly been devolving into a pit of symptomless depression. I've been getting over emotional about things, losing track of work, losing connection with the positives in life and generally shriveling into a little prune, unable to do anything with myself. It's been so hard, you cannot fathom. I've been destroyed by it. It's turned me into this dried up, empty person, not knowing what I want, who I want, how I want it, and when I want it. I've become randomly instinctive and doing things without my better judgement. I've been going about things the wrong way, and on and on, day by day I can feel things constantly getting too worse for me. I feel trapped, pressured by it. It feels like a great weight on my shoulders, a weight that I am unable to shift, no matter how much I will it away. No matter how much I remind myself that it's causeless and that I am basically distilling this depression in my own head, with nowhere for it to go, but to circulate and pollute my spirits and my productivity as a human being. It prohibits my happiness, my enjoyment and my connection to things. I cannot feel a distinct hold on people, on records, on films or clothes or anything anymore. It's terribly heartbreaking. Like I'm this robot that's trying to feel love, but just can't quite do it.

So that's why I have returned to you, Blogger. I can take faith in you. I know that I am the only one reading this and it makes me happy because of that. I can fully express every problem I can confess, no one will read it, and I know I don't have to impress anyone.

Thank you Blogger. You're an old friend of mine. Many a time you sat silently at my side.