This is the End

I have come to the point when I say ‘fuck off’ to my sad, melancholic state.
See, I’m starting to hate being sad.
I’m starting to despise getting myself depressed by thinking about things I shouldn’t be thinking too much about.
I’m starting to loathe the urges to write forlorn and crappy letters that should never see the light of day.
I’m starting to abhor my pathetic self.
I’ve been sad enough, I’ve grieved enough.
I need to suck it up.
To start, I’m watching comedy movies and tv shows and then read funny (and disgustingly sweet) books.
Call it escapism, whatever. Lord knows I need a laugh.
A wise man once said, ‘When I get sad, I stop being sad and be awesome instead.’ I’ll be taking heed of those words.