Depeche Mode to the fucking end.

I love Depeche Mode so much. I have spent the last half hour creating YouTube playlists for me to listen to at work because lately sometimes I need some noise just to be able to concentrate, to drown out the thoughts in my head. So I did one of music that’s fast and intense, like George Watsky,  and one of soundtracks, mostly Hans Zimmer, and one of Depeche Mode. So now I won’t have to click back every three minutes to escape whatever song was up for autoplay.

I still remember a day last week when I was driving to work and had the sudden thought “Just pull the car over and jump off the fucking bridge! If you don’t die on impact I’m sure you will from drowning and hypothermia!” At this point I haven’t been to work in 5 days (2 of them being weekend) so I don’t know how I’ll drag myself in there tomorrow but I have to, fuck. I’m gritting my teeth just thinking about it. It was a stupid fucking idea to wait until after Christmas, that’s for fucking sure, but at least now I have some DM cued up to get me through the day. The first coworker I cried in front of is gone on holidays now, and the second is done on Friday, and that’s her last day, so at least after that I can try to keep up my Public Face with being tired or having a migraine as an excuse (I never lie about having a migraine but I’m willing to now.)

And on that note, let’s read the lyrics to my life “Wrong” by Depeche Mode:

I was born with the wrong sign

In the wrong house

With the wrong ascendancy

I took the wrong road

That led to the wrong tendencies

I was in the wrong place at the wrong time

For the wrong reason and the wrong rhyme

On the wrong day of the wrong week

I used the wrong method with the wrong technique
Wrong
Wrong
There’s something wrong with me chemically

Something wrong with me inherently

The wrong mix in the wrong genes

I reached the wrong ends by the wrong means

It was the wrong plan

In the wrong hands

With the wrong theory for the wrong man

The wrong lies, on the wrong vibes

The wrong questions with the wrong replies
Wrong
Wrong
I was marching to the wrong drum

With the wrong scum

Pissing out the wrong energy

Using all the wrong lines

And the wrong signs

With the wrong intensity

I was on the wrong page of the wrong book

With the wrong rendition of the wrong hook

Made the wrong move, every wrong night

With the wrong tune played till it sounded right yeah
Wrong
Wrong
Too long
Wrong

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