Here I sit. Alone. Deeply, darkly, blissfully alone. You would laugh at me. Oh would you ever laugh at me. But it is I who has the last and most soulful laugh on this day, a disgusting day. While you and whatever vapid tramp you're dragging around-stuffing her face with shitty pasta, chocolates, and appletinis-are about, feeding the corporate guilt war machine with your own wealth all because you hope to get laid, I, xxgr3gxx, will be suffering through true bliss.
Loneliness, that is my bliss. Oh, sweet darkness, envelop me, take my soul. Make me bleed inside. How do you fight loneliness? You smile all the time and laugh at every joke. Hah. Pathetic. Loneliness is for the honest, the ones who are not afraid of their own anguish.
I pity you.
Have a horrible Valentines day, motherfuckers. I'm going to sit alone at Huddle House and drink decaf for two or three before going home to slip into some girls jeans and flat iron my hair. Oh, and I'm going to weep to my new Girl Talk CD.
-emo Greg Hardy