what
Wait, wait, let me try.
Although the machinations of this brutal world that ending up stepping on the toes of those that we think we love make us despair in the deadness that infiltrates our world, we will slip endlessly, despairingly and desperately towards the existential hell that permeates our existence.
It is in this darkness where are demons become real that we cease to succeed in the things that we never succeeded in anway due to the fact that we suck our own feet in an attempt to right the way we have gone head over heels in the endless circling madness that eats the soul.
How’s that?
As my dear old dad used to say, “What do you want? Life sucks. Suck it up and get used to it, Sunshine, cause you got plenty of years left to put up with this crap.”
I’m 29, and I’m not angsting, THIS IS REALLY HAPPENING, REALLY HAPPENING!
NO IT REALLY REALLY ISN’T!
Exactly what is “hand kick batter”?
Okay, let me summarize this, and most bad Gothic insights while I’m at it.
I rock because I can produce scintillating insights, just like a lot of people, on how everyone besides me is fake. You are nothing. I know a lot of synonyms and adjectives, that I will use copiously. I write this because I believe I am the only one suffering for all our sakes, with this kind of insight that I just can’t keep to myself. So compliment me on it, you bitter evil seething shadow of nothingness.
Did I miss anything out? Also, I skimmed through the whole OP, I can’t take that much angst.
Nullshit.
My new word.
Then I think the heroin might be causing you to regress. 
Please stop. It’s creepy when dudes cry, especially when it’s for my sakes.
hand kick batter is batter prodocued by many kicks and punches to the said batter.
ilsa lund, piss off. let me rant in peace with none of your sheninagans, ok?
I don’t do drugs, stop pulling shit out of nowhere, you have no basis in that attack.
You, in short, rule.
…you’re twenty-nine? My classmates have outgrown the whole “angst” thing, and they’re thirteen.
On preview: Oh, so that’s what it means. You might want to add some footnotes to your next…work. And if you want to rant in peace, why are you posting on a message board? Go get a blog or something.
Why? This is the Pit.
Well 3 things: you named yourself after Kurt Cobain, I read your post, and I put a smiley.
Happy Trails and thanks for taking care of all my worrying for me!
I swear I hope he’s 29. Self-righteous gothic people with wonderful insights on life are so boooooring.
Yes, Kurdt, everyone except you is a proletariat. Fight the system, Kurdt!
Yea, I have some of my angsty ramblings saved (because I never throw anything I’ve written away). My god, they’re just terrible. I wince every time I read them.
Lemme try some:
Who am I? I am no one. A cog in the ever-turning machine, just another part on the assembly line of life being screwed by other, more complete drones. Robots. They automatically weld me and I cry out, the burning, glaven, but then I’m on to the next station.
And it’s all an illusion. You think you know me, but you don’t know shit about me. I am colors, I am nothing. I live in a world you can’t concieve of, because you are one of the soulless robot drones wielding the blowtorch of Real Life, waiting to singe my newly formed soul.
The agony! My mom, all she does is go to work, then make me clean out the basement. Fuck her. Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage, but it’s my cage, dammit, and I’ll decorate how I like. The mold on the old pizza boxes is my friend.
Howazzat?
Kurdt, Have you considered that you may be suffering from clinical depression? I strongly urge you to talk to a doctor, therapist, counselor, or someone you trust. At any rate, posting to the pit is not the best way to seek help.
I’m saying this because I’ve been there myself. i know the whole “black pit of despair” thing first hand, and I know how real and overwhelming it can be. Therapy helped me gain some perspective and to realize that I had a very distorted picture of the world. Meds help take the edge off the mood swings.
The key thing is to remember that what your feeling isn’t real. Don’t get me wrong, I know the feelings themselves are all too real, but they are a distorted response to reality. I remember when the slightest thing–a bit of criticism, a snub from a girl–would absolutely incapacitate me. It took a lot of work to get my thoughts and emotions sorted out, but it was definitely worth it. Even now I’m still moody and hyper-sensitive at times, but the important thing is now I can deal with it instead of letting it overwhelm me. It doesn’t have to overwhelm you either.
Also I recommend the book Darkness Visible by William Styron, which is a very well written and non-self-pitying account of what its like to have depression.
Good luck!
“Hand kick batter” sounds like it might be more like something produced when you look at dirty pictures and touch your special no-no place.
Oops, sorry I called you a kid. :smack:
Anyways, if life really does suck that much for you I could give you some tips on how to correctly kill yourself (I have seen plenty of people screw this up - believe me, Nothing makes you look more like a failure than trying to commit suicide and failing. Except failing more than once, of course) if you want them.