How?

21 07 2008
Tired.

A little hung up on the space cadets.

Motivation is left to the bats in aisle 6.

Run from the cowardly lion.

Get out of my head, you ballistic machete.

Stream-of-consciousness is for morons and pretentious fools.

No more of this.

How do I get rid of this feelingness?

Maybe some meaning will spontaneously erupt from the nonsensical musings of a lazy, apathetic couch (computer chair) monkey.

Battle the inane rebellion of nematodes.

“Existence, it’s no surprise.”

Prom night.

Unaware of how to make some aware.

“Self-pity is useless, I’ll not entertain your sickness.”

“These four walls have seen the worst of me, they’re bleeding confession, they’re weak at the knees.”

Breathe.

This is ridiculous.

Refrain from biting the children, please.

Corrupting the innocent?

or

Comforting the hurting?

What else can I do?

Awkward diary entry ftw.

But it goes on.

Have you stopped reading yet?

I have.

Get out of my visions.

Stop feeding me your lines, and I’ll stop being bitter.

Misrepresentation is not cool.

What is this about?

Your guess is as bad as mine.

Just face the wall and count your blessings.

Walk out of the room and into the sauna. It’s hot. Get out, quick, before your body gets all wrinkly.

“The very idea of beauty died so long ago…

But sometimes I catch a glimpse.”

nevermind

It’s not worth repeating.

Spoonfed children, play nicely and don’t ask questions, it’s the same as biting the hand that feeds you. Keep your voices down, and we’ll keep satiating your hunger with our bilge. Your petty arguments amuse us. Please don’t deprive us of your forced innocence. Your ignorance is our bliss. Bring us joy. Please don’t ever grow up. Don’t leave the sandbox. Trying new things is dangerous. Yes, we know your Jack-In-The-Box longs to be free of his imprisonment, but he’s been confined there for a reason. If he does something other than the box allows, he will no longer be Jack and our comfortable expectancy will be duly offended.

Our boxes bring us comfort.

The writer will probably regret writing what is written.

(originally written 4/11/08 )
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