I just wish... I don't know... It's useless to even wish for anything anymore.
The Panama City trip with Marshall was decent. It did nothing for my lust to escape from Louisiana though. I still long for a life somewhere else. Somewhere that I'm not plagued with self destructive thoughts every hour of every day. Is there no end to this self-loathing?
** No anti-suicide replies, please. We all know that I am not stupid enough to try that again. I'd just fuck it up and end up worse than before. I am condemned to live until old-age in this miseralble existence. **