My life is tumblr

My fucking life is tumblr, great. I sank in grunge and pastel 90s-styled ocean of pictures and screens, forgetting about real-life sucking situations and problems that are islands of reality in the oceans of virtual world. Can we reblog beauty in real life? Can we click like when somebody attracts us? No. Internet gives us confidence and happiness. But is this happiness real, not virtual?
My mom broke my smartphone few days ago because all my time i spend in it. But what should i do? Its summer, i have no friends here in Lithuania, nothing to do. My parents think that i waste my time, but all teenagers 'waste' time on Net. I want to die, fuck.
My life is tumblr, and you don' t understand me

society and i

I love Virgin suicides. I love chewing strawberry gum and wearing heart-shape sunglasses. I love Sylvia Plath and I love fuck everything. I love dying, that is an art. I love many things that are strange.
Each of people in the world think they are extraordinary. But they lie to themselves. Stamped brains limited with common sence and "smart" ideas. We all are create by God to do mechanically biological things. But i want my life being a poem, a life that is worth of being stamped on autobiographic book.
oh i am going to fuck my life