why would you drink a thimble of orange juice instead of a cup? why would you drink a single beer instead of five? why would you stand at the edge of a bridge on a rainy day not to jump?
there’s a guy who every time somebody says how are you doing says “well i am doing!” with a gritty croak from the back of his throat. he went camping one time and he didn’t know how to start the campfire or how to cook anything on the fire. in the middle of it somebody says “i just need to get this fire going! and this fire going! okay!” and he says back “im not even standing close to the fire and i feel like i’m getting roasted” and everybody laughed.
people cross the streets in both directions but they spread right through each other. the same doesn’t happen with water, the water will hit its opponent head on.
what is wrong with me? my nose hurts for no reason, and i went for a walk to clear my head but the outdoors is gray, and there’s nobody out there who wants to talk to me. who wants. who wants? people have desires and want specific things at specific times, and know clearly whether they’ve gotten them or not. that is normal.
i was at a campfire and didn’t know how to roast a marshmallow so i could not stop thinking about marshmallows. i’d see a marshmallow on every stick, and eventually when you think about something like that it starts to exist. then i had to roast a marshmallow and i layed it on its side against a coal and as it caught fire i reached out and grabbed it. a burnt marshmallow and a burnt hand. angry, too. god damn it!
i saved up a bit of money and moved somewhere where it costs $.50 a day to survive. to sit there for awhile. how the hell am i not good at anything? i write all the damn time. i play music i sing. even my day job i suck ass at, how am i not any good? i should be good. i’m a fucking idiot
there’s an amateur soccer league where nobody joins unless they’ve been in the major leagues. so while technically they are all amateurs because they don’t do this for a living, if some mcgee with a beer belly shows up he’s going to get slammed. a mcgee can’t have any fun, because the mcgee is getting his face slammed into the dirt so regularly he recalls the taste better than dinner.
if worst comes to worst, i’ll buy a disgusting bright yellow jacket, and wear that everywhere
it’s all torture. somebody is torturing me, it’s some kind of a sick joke. i hope he’s having fun at least. he’s watching the tv screen in silence– he’s not the type to emote out loud at the screen. but when the show ends something is missing, and he wants it back. he needs it, so he turns it back on.
two minutes, no fans. no blessings, no curses. a demon is grabbing me. god damn it!