I'm not sure if I hate my life or not; I think I could say that I enjoy it, and wouldn't change it. After all, when setting my "first world problems" aside, I must say that things are good. I have an apartment, food, clothes, family, friends and still have the gall to whine how I hate my life and want to die.
It feels like my life is stuck in a rut; every day I do nothing but write my diary, surf on the Internet, order stuff I can't afford online, wank off to bizarre porn, eat too much chocolate, take naps, dream, blare music, avoid doing housework or exercising, and at least try to read books... well, now that I think about it, that's actually the kind of life I enjoy.
I can't imagine myself working or studying, being in a relationship or otherwise living a "grown- up" life. And I can't see why I am already almost 23 years old, when I feel like I am something between 15- 19 years old.
I think the only thing that prevents me from screaming and tearing my hair is my medication.