Cliché from 4 by Grady Philip Drugg

Insert generic sentiment here
I started off this sentence with "I"
Put your problems on the shelf
I'm gonna talk about myself again
This gloomy weather is almost cliché
I must admit that it's probably my fault
That it was 85 degrees a week ago
And now the trees have lost their leaves

But there's no sense in isolation,
If I want it to get better, then I have to do something
Like see a friend, or run around, or read a book
Or anything at all besides what I'm doing now

This sense of worthlessness is stupid as shit
I'm fuckin' over it, I wanna get out
Of my room and of my head
And cease to wish that I were dead without a doubt
I feel so stupid complaining like this
I'm typing about how sad I feel on my new iPhone
Because my friends are cool, and I feel weird,
And blah blah blah blah...
Be grateful, you bastard

I didn't leave myself any beer at all
To bring out before and share with all my friends
Today was good, but it would be better if last night
I would have thought ahead

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