Even when I was a kid, I always took it for granted people wanted to play the games I like, and I'd be furious when they didn't.

Have you ever looked up, in the middle of something, and thought "this one thing about me makes me want to totally kill myself"? WAIT, I know it sounds totally insane and "I should call Captain right fucking now!" but really, it's more of a theoretical thing. Let me explain: I was looking at my front teeth, the ones that garnered me the title of Bugs Bunny since I was, oh I don't know, zero, and I thought, "Huh, these are never going to change and I'm totally annoyed by them. I should just call it a wrap." Yeah, weird, I know, especially since I've always felt that whenever I'm depressed the best option would be to kill some random jackass (lord knows the world is full of 'em) and as I watched that person die I'd feel way better that I was still breathing. Huh, I just read all of this malarkey over and I've decided I read utterly insane and stupid and so, on that note, I'm done. Please disregard the painfully stupid paragraph you just struggled through and realize this: I'm not suicidal or anything else cowardly. I'm just thinking and babbling and feeling slightly off about the whole thing. Just thinking. Just pondering. Just teasing it all out in my grey matter and wondering why it is and where it all goes. Harmless. Calm down. Don't pick up a phone and call me. Don't freak. Harmless and ephemeral bullshit from a sub-par intellect full of Pacifico and an empty house. I love you all but more importantly I love myself and the potential destruction I might still be capable of wreaking on the world that I so loathe. Jokes, bitches! Jay-Z, calm down. Ok, I'm done.

Peace out, bitches!