I despise lumberjacks. They are always barking up the wrong tree, all bark and no bite. They just need to leaf people a lone or stick with something nicer
Today was like every other day It was so terribly long and so terribly dreary I fear these feelings will never end I’ll always feel so dark feel so hopeless Sometimes all I want is for it to end For all of it to end for all of my thoughts to end I despise the way that always comes to mind But I feel so lost feel so hopeless If something would just work But nothing has worked Nothing can fix this These feelings will pass. These days won't feel so endless... or so absolutely heavy. Just give it some time. Just give it some hope.... and some belief. The ‘happy pills’ will work. The doctor says they'll help... they'll help it go away. Just dump the pill in your hand. Let yourself place the little white thing on your tongue... Let yourself throw your head back and swallow. It'll make this better. It should make me feel better. Everything has changed! The world is so bright— The world is so loud! I don’t know how I never noticed! The sun is so warm— The grass is so green I feel so awake! I feel so content— I feel so happy! It’s so strange! I’m not anxious— I’m not overthinking! I guess those pills really worked! I think I’m really getting better— I think I’m really going to be happy!
Three men are working on a building site.
Everyday, they sit down to eat their lunch together at the top of the building.
The first man opens his lunchbox to reveal a ham sandwich.
“By god,” the man exclaims, “I hate ham sandwiches. I’ve been working in construction for twenty years, and everyday, despite me telling her how much I despise it, my wife gives me a ham sandwich. If I get a ham sandwich in my lunch again, I will throw myself off the top of this building and kill myself.”
The second man opens his lunchbox, revealing a cheese sandwich.
“Holy crow, another cheese sandwich! I hate these things, I tell you. Everyday, I tell my wife how much I despise cheese sandwiches, but I still get them in my lunch. I’m with you buddy—if I ever get a cheese sandwich in my lunch again, I’m killing myself.”
The third man, having opened his lunchbox, now pipes in.
“I don’t believe it—another tuna sandwich! If I had a penny for every time I’ve told my wife how much I hate these, I wouldn’t have to work on this sordid site no more! I’m sick of it—count me in, if I get a tuna sandwich in my lunchbox again, I’m killing myself.”
The next day, the three men regroup at the top of the building and open their lunchboxes: the first man – a ham sandwich, the second – a cheese sandwich, the third – a tuna sandwich.
The three men exchange solemn looks before jumping in unison from the height of the building.
At the funeral for the three men, their grieving wives turn to each other.
“If only I’d known how much he didn’t like ham sandwiches,” says the first man’s wife, “I always thought he was being ironic!”
“And if only I’d known how much he didn’t like cheese sandwiches,” says the second man’s wife, “I always thought he was being sarcastic!”
“And if only I’d known how much he didn’t like tuna sandwiches,” says the third man’s wife, “but I don’t know what good it would have done—the fool made his own lunch!”
