i said i was done...but now i'm like 'what the fuck, i got nothin better to do'.

For all of your kisses turned to spit in my face
For all that reminds me which is my place

yeah...i still feel like that...i don't know how anyone can think i could handle this. i cannot. everything i see, everything i do...everything. it all reminds me that i am a failure and that i can never win. 'oh, silly andy, always being such a pessimist.' fuck you. look around. i'm not a pessimist, i'm a fucking prophet. 'just because you had a little bad luck with women...' fuck you. this isn't a little bad luck. this isn't having my heart broken. this is dying a painful and torturing death every morning when i wake up and every night when i go to sleep.

and people wonder about me...