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So, with nothing better, I eat two Benadryl and wait.
You can't get away from me that easily.
Desire, wish, yearning, hunger, craving, ache, pining, lust...
No one could care less. I think it's lost it's steam.
Fuck.
"A Guiless Promise"
Don't think I've forgotten. If you make a thousand more mistakes in your lifetime; never make the mistake of thinking that I have forgotten because I haven't. And I won't. You are responsible for your actions no matter what your claim for their rightness or less wrongness may be because I don't care.
I'm a monster. Reasons don't matter. Relationships don't matter. The only thing that does matter is action and I'm biding my time. I want to take away all that is special to you. To destroy everything you love. To ruin all you create and rebuild what you destroy. I want to drag your name through sacrilage and waste and then, maybe, allow you to die and swim through to the tenth layer of Hell where you may rot for eternity or until the stars fall from the sky.
Turn around and you just might see it coming.
Fuck you.
"Closer"
Maybe if I cry out loud enough a head might turn.
I doubt it; There are no naked women gracing the page, no flashy graphics, and no links to free music, people fucking, or horny people close to home. Nobody wants to sit and read and God forbid it's something intelligent, no less.
Maybe I should just pack it all in.
Sometimes, I wonder how it would be to look down on my own funeral.
"Ache"
I have officially forgotten how a kiss feels.
I cannot remember how it is to hold hands.
The pitter patter of heartbeat that comes with infatuation is only a vague memory.
I would like to know these things again, but I fear that I have not the looks, the money, nor the belongings that would lend me lady to share these feelings with.
A brief interlude
Fuck, it's not fair. And fuck you. This is my place. If I want to make these declarations, I Will. I shout unfairness and this is bullshit. I cry injustice and wrongness. This world is not right.
Here's an idea: Fuck off. I have real problems in my life to deal with.
Dirty bitches. They always stick together to lame things up.
And my customers(at both jobs)know me as the overly nice, polite guy.
This shit needs to be said.
Nine out of ten people prefer watching television to being beaten with a blunt object.
Derek, you are an all right fellow.
I'm killing myself into a better tax bracket.
When this is all said and done I'm never working in the fast food, particularly the pizza/managerial, arena ever again.
...But I am hateful, so fuck off.
I think I'm doing the equivelant to talking to myself here these days. Which I guess, in it's own maddening way, is ok therapy. I don't know how long it's been since someone's come and not told me how lame I am for the things I say.
Nine out of ten people prefer a comfortable chair to a savage beating.
I hate drama, trajedy, and cluster-fucks.
And so, she tells me about her other guy. I hate that.
"Contentment"
Everyday feels like a struggle, with brief periods of contentment. But don't get me wrong; I thank God for those brief periods.
I find myself thanking God a lot these days. I know I'm a self-rightous asshole but I don't go out of my way to fuck with people, so at least I'm a good one.
Thanks God.
Consider me unimpressed.
Here's an idea: You pay me the rate you say you're going to and on the date you said you will, and I'll do the best job I can. To simplify: No money, no worky.
I can't believe just how many like to be slapped around.
On days like this I think the kind of thoughts that assure me that I could easily become a serial killer.
Boo-fucking-hoo.
Oh shoot me. More whining.
My day is now complete. My car seat is broken. I have to lean up or hold on to something when I hit the gas. Well, that's when hitting the gas actually accomplishes something.
If you love me, you will humiliate yourself.
You want pepperoni? Well, I want meaning but I don't come bothering you with it, now do I?
Talking with the girl was like an interactive version of the lifetime channel without all the objectivity and wit.
Oh, this is the part where I'm supposed to laugh at your attempt at levity. Sorry.
"Memory Lane"
O, when will these dreams end?
Don't you realize that I would gladly let you into my home and shelter you from all the bad out there; Take you away from complication; Surround you in nothing but completeness.
I sometimes dream about taking you away from everything. I know I can't. I know you won't let me. You see, sometimes when you have nothing else in your life to look forward to and everyday seems worse than the last, the only thing left is dreams.
Fuck.
I hate the past. I have come to find that even those times when I felt most enlightened; Or happy; Usefull; or good are just as shamefull and useless as the worst times. Fuck the past. Fuck it straight to Hell.
If you need something: Ask. Talking to me is a good start.
"Mother fucker can't even get well these days."
Maybe I'll be better one day.
maybe
