depression

Day of Anger

I really shouldn’t be blogging because right now I’m pretty deep in the pit. Or the black dog has come to visit. Or whatever your preferred euphemism. But I need to say something.

Today I turn fifty fucking nine years old. I’m pissed about it. I’m so mad I could just spit. If you’ve been following my posts, you know why.

I hate birthdays.

Ciao.