Friday, December 11, 2009

Pea [RHCP]

I'm a little pea
I love the sky and the trees
I'm a teeny tiny little ant
Checking out this and that
I am nothing
So you have nothing to hide
And I'm a pacifist
So I can fuck your shit up

Oh yea I'm small

Fuck you asshole
You homophobic redneck dick
You're big and tough and macho
You can kick my ass
So fucking what

in line, like the rest

All the words around me bite.  They drip with bitterness.  Everyone is so displeased.  It's a simple enough existence in this place I live, but no one is happy.  And rightfully so.  Simple here means "do what you're told".  Yelling is the language, though I don't speak or understand it.  It grates on my nerves.  Sometimes I can almost feel the discontent and anger dripping from the walls and ceiling.  Heavy on my shoulders, it weighs me down.  Quick, someone pull the plug on the drain before I drown.  I fear floating here forever, lungs filled with that which I spit so easily.  Any of us could do what we could to make it easier for all of us, but I don't want to fix it.  I want to escape it.  So until then, I'll continue to contribute to this horrible fucking feeling.  Hence the self-loathing.
Someday I will escape, and I can start having the kind of life that will inspire incredibly more interesting blogging and writing.  Until then, you get this shit, and for writing...I'll keep making shit up.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Perpetual, Slow-Motion, Car Wreck

I’m a goddamn emotional wreck. I think about the past too much. My emotions are all over the place. I wish I had a disorder so I could have a reason. A “get out of self-pity free” card.

Converting self-pity to self-loathing.
Replacing my emotions with jaded cynicism.

So far it’s not working so well. I need to get the fuck out of here. Disappointment is too deeply stained here. Everything I try to do suffers because of this place.

“Sure blame it on the place, if you really tried to do anything, where you lived wouldn’t mean a thing. You could live there if you stopped complaining.”

Well FUCK YOU. I don’t want your goddamn advice. I know what I need. So go fuck yourself.
I’m going crazy.

I need a new me.

Who Gives a Shit? I'd Like To

Sometimes the people who have decided to no longer be a part of my life come wandering through my mind for whatever reason. I wish I could sit here and reminisce about the past, and wish they would at least speak to me, or that we could be friends, or that I could be there for them.


I’m not allowed to give a shit.
It’s bad for me.
And they won’t ever know the difference.
So I’ve chosen apathy for the time being.
It helps.


I’d like to give a shit.