Yeah, I know this is like a week late, but I’ve been out of town since last Monday, plus I’m lazy. Also, I’m beginning to hate people so my motivation to do anything productive is waning.

Call it disillusionment with humanity if you like, but it seems every time I leave the house, I come home wishing I’d strangled at least two or three of the people I’d met that day, with the expectation that it would actually make the world a better place.

Perhaps my expectations are unrealistic. Perhaps I’m setting the bar too high. Maybe I’m just a dick.

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