Well fuck them, and fuck you too.

Have you ever sat in a room full of your friends, and wondered why you'd even bothered?

I sat there, not saying a word, just listening to them. With each word, I could feel myself getting more and more irritated. It seems, the more attention I pay, the less likely it is that I hear something worthwhile. Right at that moment, I couldn't stand any one of them; surely that just isn't normal?

It might be my bad mood, lack of hyperactivity or complete soberity. It might be a harsh realisation, or it could be the result of me living with a stick up my arse. I fell asleep before midnight, sick to death of it all. Voices cut right through me, and I'd already muttered one harsh word too many. In the morning, I left straight away. I barely said goodbye, just willing to get home. After a somewhat forced and uncomfortable car journey home, that was it.

I returned straight to my room. Parentals can stay the fuck away, because I don't want to hear it this time. Lousy excuses, you must be blind not to see. I've showered twice already today, but I can't wash away this feeling of discontent.

Show me some new people, new surroundings and a breath of fresh air; I beg you.

Ps- This time next week, do you think I could manage a smile?