Life Sucks Piles Of Shit

I haven't written in a long time, just haven't had the energy to breathe, much less think. I guess hell has just gotten so damn hot that if I don't get some of it out some how, I'm terrified that I'm gonna fall into that black pit from which there is no return, ever. I feel like I'm belly crawling through the wet piles of shit called life, and no matter how fuckin hard I try, I cannot ever seem to manage to get to my knees, much less be able to stand and walk! I am, without a doubt, cursed. Sometimes I hate my mother for not using her lawful right to have an abortion, since neither of my parents really wanted me to begin with. See, i've been told that my parents broke-up before I was created, but they still occasionally fucked for old times sake, and it was during one of these times that one of the fishies dug it's way in and began the growth of unwanted cells that later became me. They remained apart until I was about 9 months old, because my dad, "wanted to wait until I was old enough so that he could look at me and my genetic features and "tell if I was his." When he decided that I was, he had to do the noble thing and asked my mother, still not his girlfriend because of the year long break-up, "if she wanted to get married, or what." I would find this drama rather amuzing if I didn't know what the outcome has been and the fact that it makes me sick to my stomach that they didn't just do what was right and get rid of the thing that they never wanted, instead of being all noble. My mother drank and did dope (of what all kinds, only she knows) the whole thime that she was pregnant with me, and was even drunk off of her ass when she went into labor and delivered me 2 months early at 8:34 in the morning, weighing 3 pounds and 12 ounces. From what I have been told, I had seizures for over a year after I was born, but since doctors didn't realize what (FAS) fetal alcohol syndrome was, and I didn't have them allot, they were never diagnosed becase by the time they got me to the hospital they were always gone. The test didn't show any problems because I didn't have epilepsy, I was a premature, drug and alcohol addicted waste of oxygen. That's life for ya, fuckin grand isn't it. *sighs*
I don't think there is a term that can accurately describe how exhausted that I am with life, how sick that I am of having a conscience, how sometimes I really wish that I didn't give a shit about anyone but myself, so that I could end this torture and not feel like I would be comitting a damn crime because I don't want to continue to suffer alone like this anymore. God is such a damn prick!!! Well, I don't have the energy to rant anymore, so maybe I'll drop in and let out more later.

Just my thoughts.

Just.....nobody