Ramblings that I am sure to Regret

Fuck everything today. Fuck plane trips with uncomfortable seats and melting wedding cake on my lap, Fuck transitions, Fuck saying goodbye, Fuck Jet-lag, Fuck insomnia giving me way, way too much time to think about the fact that someday everything I love will be gone, Fuck the fact that someday I'll be gone too, Fuck Dublin and it's cold, rainy, dreariness, Fuck the cabbie that picked me up at the airport and kept on about my big brown eyes, Fuck graphic design and it's inherent desires to please and entice, Fuck marketing and that endless quest for the almighty dollar/euro, Fuck the shallow, sticky-sweet meaninglessness of commercial art and it's oh so self important attitude. Design doesn't make the world a better place so who cares? What exactly is the point. We might as well paint the names of everything with acme black paint and call it a day. Fuck all of the wasted energy that I put into my profession every day. Fuck my own inability to assert myself, Fuck my job and Fuck walking to work in the rain and sitting on that godforsaken train with a bunch of pimped out little catholic school girls. Fuck this lonely, shitty, place where sometimes everything just seems like one long struggle to maintain any kind of positivity, Fuck my own broodishness and my constant struggle against thoughts of the darkest kind, Fuck George Bush for having so much damn blood on his hands and taking away what should be my national pride, Fuck the Doirty Dub gangsters shooting eachother in the head outside my door, Fuck the self-righteous euro trash bastards always asking me to take on the sins of my country. Fuck it all. I'm so tired. And I know I sound like a teenager and I know that I have so very much in my life that is so worthy, my beautiful boy whose eyes alone are worth waking up for, my sweet family who love me more than anyone possibly could, my amazing and inspiring friends, the fact that I have food to eat and a roof over my head and don't live in Pakistan waiting for winter. It's just that sometimes life seems so inherently sad and the everyday seems so incredibly mundane. Do I really want to spend the next 40 years being a bitch to the 9 to 5?