Oh, Marla

"This isn't a for real suicide-thing. This is probably one of those cry-for-help things."
Often times I get bored with the current state of my life. I fall asleep. I dream. I dream that I wake up in a hospital bed. I dream that people are there, paying attention to me. People are there with actual concern for my well-being. The focal point for my dream is always my flavor-of-the-week. Whatever girl who just so happens to be the object of my desire, she's sitting there, caring for me. Talking to me. Keeping me company. In my fucked up head, a suicide attempt is what it takes for a girl to notice me.
Someone needs to kick my depressed little ass.
I need to kick my ass...