Fuck love don’t need it, I tried it and was betrayed by it. Fuck you, don’t need you. I had you and felt more alone than ever. Fuck happiness, I still haven’t found it. I hate what I can’t have, seems happiness is one of my misfortune I’ll never receive. Fuck it as I pour my next cup of scotch. It isn’t like soberness brings me happiness, so I gladly settle for a little liquor intoxication. Will this anger ever perish, sometimes I forget what I’m mad at. But I am often reminded, it’s life, the life that is fucked. The life that is brief with no promises. You know what, fuck that, I’ll make promises to myself that I fear I won’t hold. But fuck it right, I can’t trust anyone, so why should I trust myself?