I think i'd like to be mauled to death by a mountain lion
I'm pissed off all the time. All the time, and I’m, mostly, just pissed off cause I’m bored. More importantly though. I'm bored of being pissed off. Fuck it.
There’s only so much I can take. But I’m not sure what of, or where it's coming from, even. I have enough goddam outlets to express any slew of coupled emotions this world, brain, heart, or whatever ugly corner of existence that emotions are coming from these days, can throw at me. So what the hell is keeping me from living a respectively happy life? I know what it is.
It's fucking babies with blogs. It's every pre-teen bitching about how they never get the girls they want. It's timeshare-salesmen interrupting when I’m about four pages from the end of my book. It's the ugliest fucking living room set, in the world, in my living room. It's every goddam Bush-hating "political expert" throwing out their down-to-earth idiosyncratic translations, of an already perfectly coherent news article about how fucked up your country is. Yeah I get it. Bush is a moron, prick, racist, sexist, puppet, warmonger, republican, or whatever slanderous sub-text you're, as a nation, giving him today. Because, the truth is, somebody elected him. Hey, and maybe it's not his fault. Maybe he's not an idiot. Maybe the world's just a fucked up place and he, like so many of us, aren't up to the task... and also, he's an idiot.
I need to stop thinking so much about everything; or start thinking more about something else.
I expect that I’ll end up killing myself. Not now of course, this is not a cry for help, but, preferably, in the distant future. Don't get me wrong. I love life. I love ever breath I take, note I play and step I take; but it's hard. The world seems to be moving in on me on all sides, and sometimes the pressures too much to bear. I don't expect I’ll plan it out. Or put very much thought into it at all. Most likely, I’ll just absent-mindedly, and with full intention, walk in front of a bus. Or off a bridge or something.
This can't be living.
Yours truly
Shithead
[I need a fucking cookie]
There’s only so much I can take. But I’m not sure what of, or where it's coming from, even. I have enough goddam outlets to express any slew of coupled emotions this world, brain, heart, or whatever ugly corner of existence that emotions are coming from these days, can throw at me. So what the hell is keeping me from living a respectively happy life? I know what it is.
It's fucking babies with blogs. It's every pre-teen bitching about how they never get the girls they want. It's timeshare-salesmen interrupting when I’m about four pages from the end of my book. It's the ugliest fucking living room set, in the world, in my living room. It's every goddam Bush-hating "political expert" throwing out their down-to-earth idiosyncratic translations, of an already perfectly coherent news article about how fucked up your country is. Yeah I get it. Bush is a moron, prick, racist, sexist, puppet, warmonger, republican, or whatever slanderous sub-text you're, as a nation, giving him today. Because, the truth is, somebody elected him. Hey, and maybe it's not his fault. Maybe he's not an idiot. Maybe the world's just a fucked up place and he, like so many of us, aren't up to the task... and also, he's an idiot.
I need to stop thinking so much about everything; or start thinking more about something else.
I expect that I’ll end up killing myself. Not now of course, this is not a cry for help, but, preferably, in the distant future. Don't get me wrong. I love life. I love ever breath I take, note I play and step I take; but it's hard. The world seems to be moving in on me on all sides, and sometimes the pressures too much to bear. I don't expect I’ll plan it out. Or put very much thought into it at all. Most likely, I’ll just absent-mindedly, and with full intention, walk in front of a bus. Or off a bridge or something.
This can't be living.
Yours truly
Shithead
[I need a fucking cookie]
posted by Knattyb at 5:58 PM
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