la douleur exquise (french): the heart-wrenching pain of wanting the affection of someone unattainable
People annoy the shit out of me lately. And not just any people, but my friends.
Maybe I’m rolling into some kind of a middle midlife crisis; crisis of the 1/5th of a century; the big ol’ two-zero of hell; or maybe just some really intense sexual frustration. I don’t know what it is, but people annoy me. Like hell.
Everyone just spills their bullshit on me. Like I’m a fucking toilet - I take all the crap. There is this person, who is going to leave to sell chocolate stuff in USA and considers not coming back when their Visa expires. Leaving their education and everything. Well, good luck to you.
Another one cannot get a proper job for the life of them, because they are stoned quite regularly and can’t pass their drug exam because of that.
Another one is in love and talks bullshit all the time. Don’t get me wrong; I love people who are in love. But not this type. I love listening to people’s stories and about others but I hate it when everything that someone can utter is ‘I miss him/her’, ‘Why doesn’t he write me?’ (even though you know it’s because they HAVEN’T EVEN SEEN YOUR LAST MESSAGE) and so on.
One recently started smoking and is one of those people, who make sure for everyone to find out that they smoke. ‘Ohh, some kush would be great’, ‘Ohh, I’m so sad, I have no money for kush’. Just. Shut. The. Fuck. Up. And grow up, please.
And I’m just listening, and listening, and eating all that shit and just internally bashing my head and I want to cry or just metaphorically throw myself from a bridge or something. Metaphorically.
It got so intense that 2 days ago a chicken annoyed the fuck out of me by just sticking its head out of the crate. A small, little chick, which was cute as hell.
Maybe it’s all my fault. It most definitely is. I let people talk and talk and encourage them to do so because no, I am not annoyed in the slightest bit. Because I know what it is when no one listens to you. Because I don’t want to be that person. Because.
And on top of all that, I’m not sure what I am going to do with my exams. I don’t know what is going to happen with my education or life or.. whatever.
I so much prefer being 19 years old and depressed, than 20 years old and shirty.
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