So, I’ve survived yet another trip around the massive fireball in the sky. It’ll probably be the last, but it’s the one day of the year where people have the decency to at least pretend to care. Cause after all, some half-assed birthday wishes from the same people who’d gut me if they had the chance will make me feel much better, right? Pretty ironic that it’s the day after April fools, too. My life’s almost a joke! And I’m just ecstatic for another year of my parents breathing down my neck about what I’m gonna do with my life. Hopefully they think six feet under is a valid answer. I sit through the same meaningless speech about how much better everything’s apparently gonna get year after year, and nothing ever changes. Suprise, everyone! I’m still the same fuckup that I was 365 days ago.