Not Ramblin’ Man, But Ranting Man


I was in a particularly cheerful mood yesterday; but like all good things, it came to an end rather quickly later that evening. The reason? Who knows. But that’s the way the cookie crumbles (I actually have no idea if I used that right :/)

So yesterday I came to the realization that I’m a miserable fuck. Yes, I said it, a MISERABLE FUCK. I mean, all I do is complain about my life on Twitter, WordPress, and to my friends. Probably my co-workers too, who knows. But that’s all anyone really sees, is just how miserable I am ALL THE TIME. The simple things in life piss me off, like when I fuck up my coffee in the morning, or when I have 1846352 close-call accidents on the road because people are bad drivers, or when I make 468521 incorrect measurements at work and have to do them all over again, or when the supermarket decides to no longer sell grape tomatoes (seriously, who does that?).

Now that we’ve got that clear, let’s set a couple things straight. First and foremost, no I am not a miserable person all of the time. I don’t fucking walk into work every morning and flip everyone I come in contact with. I don’t actually throw things against a wall whenever I get a chance. I’m not that lonely fuck that sits in the corner at parties hating his life.

In fact, I’m actually a generally happy person (surprising, I know!). I try to make the best of awkward situations when I’m put in them. I try to be as productive as I can and get along rather nicely with most of my co-workers. I’m a hilarious guy, and in the right situations I can turn a dull moment into a fun one.

That is my facade. And if you deny that you have a facade, you’re lying to yourself. Because no one is 100% happy all the time. Me…I embrace my miserable side more because it’s what keeps me going. And I use things such WordPress and Twitter as my outlets. When you have that moment where all you want to do is rage at a situation, instead of seeming like a miserable fuck in front of everyone, I’ll post something on here or post something on there. So you the reader (LOL, what reader), only really every gets to see the miserable part of me because that’s what thing was intended to do (as well as my Twitter); to serve as a means of letting out my frustrations with the world, since half the time my life is just one big joke.

If you’re a friend that also gets to see my miserable side of me, you should consider that a compliment; meaning that I consider you a good enough friend to help me through the simple struggles of everyday life. I don’t need you to tell me how miserable I am, because I am well fucking aware! And I’ll say this only once to all of you: If you can’t deal with it then get the fuck out. Because I’ll continue to be the miserable fuck I want to be on my outlets, and continue to be the happy individual I am everywhere else.

Now take the amount of times I said the word ‘fuck’ in this post, and multiply it by the speed of light in a vacuum and that’s how much I’ve been raging the past 24 hours.