~UtherSereneaux

>_>

<_<

Message me, damnit!

I'm "teh boerd..."

>_>

Love.

I'm alive.

I'm sick of the world. As soon as I am close to getting over something, it gets worse!

My stepmother gets pregnant -and- nearly dies.
I barely dodge going to jail -and then- I nearly get arrested for doing a good deed.
I free myself from the bureacracy and then I get even more bullcrap work than before.
I finally have the time for a job -and- no one will accept me because I look Arabic.
I get over my past feelings by burying them and then SOMEONE has to go and dig them up again.

I'm not just sick, I'm frustrated. I've had it. My patience has entirely gone out. I'm looking for something high to jump off of.

If I don't put in another journal entry you can assume I'm dead.

Well, folks, it's official. I've been on sertraline hydrochloride and quetiapine fumarate frm roughly a month, and that was okay. But they're and antidepressant and a stabilizer, respectively. But an antipsychotic- apriparazole- has been thrown into the mix. I'm dizzy. Tired. My vision's blurred and images double;
my mind so often dipped in trouble;
And-
Damnit I can't even mae up a good limerick.

But to the point. It's official: I am a self-centered asshole with a big head for a big brain, who needs pills just to get through the day.

Pills, pills, pills,
To cure what ills, ills, ills,
And you pay from your check
To keep from a wreck
But sometimeyou choose:
Nose or ass ooze?