just the bell curve...

dear blogger,
        do you think i'm making the wrong decision again? when i'll write something in here instead of delving through my books? tell me blog. cause there are things i can't say to myself without me maudlin. but what difference would it make if i'll ask you for that, you don't know what it is, you're not my manipulator. i'm a manipulator of myself and all those claimers, obsess hegemonic bastards. depots implementing their realities on me. crap. perfect crap on a perfect bell curve.
what's the sense of all this emotionalism, nothing really. but just a perfect waste of time, but wasting time is experiencing myself, and experiencing myself means discovering the broad horizons of the bleak continent of myself. but what could be emptier than discovering the emptiness in you? this is so pathetic. crap. hurl me in an empty trash, so that i could claim that i'm the only one empty here.

....
all those shits above stemmed from emotional stability and disability. don't believe, please don't take heed of what i'm saying now.