I get why blasting music in my face is so satisfying. I get why that simplistic, repetitive, base, gross, vulgar music is so satisfying. I get why driving around without a goal is so satisfying. Why I am getting so damn frustrated with figuring out where I will spend the next four years of my life.

I don’t want to end up in another quiet, wealthy, isolated pocket of suburban “paradise.” All of these things without goals or purposes take my mind off of all this bulls*** around me. I hate this town because it takes people who would be perfectly fine and changes them into these things that need to achieve and be doing whatever activities. The product is that NO ONE GIVES A DAMN ABOUT WHAT THEY’RE DOING.

Here’s a nice thought for you:

DON’T DO IT IF YOU DON’T GIVE A RAT’S ASS.

This comes up a lot. This issue is cliche. But nothing gets to be a cliche without being true: Suburbia is a huge pile of stinking, fake s***. All of this nonsense that I do (listening to music way too loud, listening to really bad music, insulting people, shouting really loud, swearing a lot) is just so that I can forget about it for awhile and worry about something else. Like what a goofball I am. But Suburbia has this way of not leaving you alone when you want to be left alone; it’s like the kid who doesn’t understand that everyone hates him and keeps coming back and bothering everyone. It just thinks it’s a good idea to come a smack me in the face with all of this nonsense.

Oh well. Whatever. F*** it. At least I get why I’m being a goofball. And that makes it somewhat better. Maybe not if you’re from Suburbia.