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Creative misinterpretations...
...A feeling associated somewhere between fear and terror.
I wish I could be fearless.
Belittle me in public... Now that's origional. Thanks buddy.
Ah, the joys and wonders of Xanax used in mass.
Help me, I'm in Hell.
"Missed Meetings"
Thanks for fucking that up for me; Like I wasn't doing well enough without your help. At least you was competant at something.
She refuses to acknowledge my existance, let alone speak to me. Oh, well.
Fuck them all.
"Name's Sake"
Help me, I'm in Hell.
Hell is a subjective term, really. Hell is a misery that seems to last for an eternity.
Some of the most vehemently self-proclaimed Christians have shown me Hell's true face over and over again.
Love is a word much overused.
And now the buzzards circle overhead.
"Special Moments"
There are times when sentimentallity rears it's ugly head and I must remember.
We all have moments that stay with us.
One of the most miserable days of my life is one of those.
It was a hot summer and an even hotter day in July at the amusement park. This is when I remember that, quite possibly, everyone there had seen her tits but me and I was dating her.
Fuck.
And ,yes folks, that shit just kicked in.
Whore.
Every word I say seems, somehow, calculated; Every facial expression rehearsed... To everyone I interact with.
And if you look close enough, you can see that it is uninspired dribble.
I woke up so alone this morning.
"For God, the world, and anything that ever mattered..."
I'm fired, yay.
Failure is an awefully big word.
May you gargle sixteen glorious ounces of my urine... And where's my money?
"Authentic"
The nature of some words and their meanings has become a hobby of mine as of late. Words are a lot of fun especially if used properly. I've noticed increasingly that the use of the words "stupid" and "whore" in tandem allicit a very interesting response not to mention the liberating feeling experienced by the speaker.
This being as it may, the point is authentic. Authenticity is simply a measure of uniquness more than a measure of quality. Now do not misunderstand, it measures both in only small amounts, and the word is misused quite a bit. Perhaps an example is in order: I could deficate in a brown paper bag and call it "Authentic JoeShmoe Shit". It would be true that this would be my shit in a bag and unique by virtue, but who's to say that it is quality shit and that my shit in a bag is any better or more shit-like than, say, "Good 'ol Boy's Sac of Shit".
So remember this charming example when tiny models dance provocatively and proclaim authenticity and goodness of the jeans they're trying to hock on the Dummy Box in your abode.
"Inept"
Understand, my friend, it isn't that I don't love you. Don't get me wrong. It seems that I've always found it hard to say this phrase and it only seems to get increasingly difficult with age.
It also doesn't lend itself any more credence that with individuals I have told this magicall phrase too have either showed themselves undeserving, or much worse, I proved myself a liar.
It's just easier for me to nod my head and smile that smile I tend to.
Perhaps this will help, I'll let you in on a little secret:
I can't even tell my own mother that I love her.
I wonder if I'm on my way out sometimes.
So, I'm just saying that, if the end is close, I'm ready God.
Amen.
