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three weeks
three weeks, i've been sitting in this closet.
he brings me food and plays violin for me every now and again but otherwise, i have no contact with the outside world.
i just got tired, pretty much.
i got tired of hearing mom talk about my future. my future. my future. mom and the taxes.
support your children. not with money. well, yeah, money too, but goddamn it, just stick the fuck around. if you don't, your kids'll end up like me.
dad and money. dad and bills. dad and my lack of a job. dad and the phone bill. dad and the taxes.
him, and his expectations.
him, and his dick.
him and his future. my future. our future. babies. paranoia. contempt. bitterness. sometimes love. always conflict. whole lotta semen and bad, bad hidden emotions.
i was tired.
and i hated my zits.
and i was out of heroin.
and david left me.
i deserved it, i guess.
he tries to make up for it, he really does, but i won't allow him to do what i know he can do. so he bitches. a lot.
i was tired of the world, and i didn't think daylight was a good idea.
so here i am, in a closet. thinking dark thoughts. it's a dark room.
in today's world the same technology that brings us together is the same thing that alienates us from each other.
i complain too much.
i haven't listened to music in over a week.
i think i'm burned out.
WHAT DID YOU FUCKING WANT FROM ME?
really, that's all i want. is an answer.
to the biggest question ever.
i have chicken legs.
today's dinner i think is a couple pieces of toast.
so i went nuts.
i was sick of school, and i decided to start staying in this closet so i could figure out what it is that i want to do.
i have no dreams. nothing. not one.
it wasn't until i got to college that i started being unsure of what i wanted to create from my life.
i think the older i get, the more i want to go to sleep and never wake up.
i love no-one.
i love everyone.
go to hell.
go to hell.
go to heaven.
go to dtr's.
i don't know if you've ever really penetrated the shell. i'm sorry. i wish you would (could) (should) (let me out).
so i've been in this closet for three weeks. boy, is my ass tired.
after the wedding fiasco they all decided to get together and drink to the moron's lack of wisdom or sanity. Perhaps she was just that good of a fuck, fellas. You never know. The entire basis for anyone to marry me is that I learn how to shag like a minx. Not much else going for us girls these days, basically.
Your mom is fucking cool.
To the Emperor: i promise to bring many, many rolls of multiple-ply toilet tissue if I ever, ever see you again. you're welcome.
Is the lack of intelligence in modern society so bad that i am considered a smart person?
sheesh.
so after about fifteen minutes of yelling he decided to quiet down, while i attempted to shake off flashbacks of the weekly scream lectures delivered by my parents. i wanted to cry and scream back and hit him, beat the fuck out of him, get out of the car and leave, be anywhere but in that grassy knoll.
is this how it really is?
if it made anything at all better for you, if it would make you happy, i would do whatever you fucking wanted me to.
but not without a fight.
yes, everything's an argument. because i cannot communicate any other way. i am trying. and yes, you're a ninja.
you're a softie. never for me. maybe that's what i needed.
you're the sexual equivalent to a slap in the face in a crowded restaurant.
you are the master of subtle psychological manipulation.
we gotta break through these fucking walls, babe, if we're ever gonna get anywhere at all.
to my friends of the etown steak and shake:i beg of you, please, don't ever, ever let her tell you she's not lying. and give her more than a goddamned nanosecond to answer any question you ask, even the big stupid ones.
butt face.
sitting in the hot sun with the threat of the wrath of god hanging over their heads, the two of them decided to fuck each other's lives up and also managed to disappoint their friends. i get the brunt of the stress because i can't nod and smile politely with a migraine. i am sorry for that, by the way. i promise, it will never happen again.
so, guys, how long do you give me and him? (and what's the pool up to, i may wanna get in on that...)
here, for your enjoyment, is what a monster would like to say:
dwayne's a ninja.
FUCK FUCKING GODDAMNED FUCKING POP MUSIC. I CAN HATE IT IF I GODDAMNED WELL WANT TO.
GRUNGE IS FINALLY DEAD. BRING BACK JOHN LENNON'S REFRIDGERATED HEAD.
I WOULD LIKE A CIGARETTE AND A MARTINI, PLEASE.
HELLO, MY NAME IS BINGO. CAN I HAVE A BANANA? EEK EEK.
THANKS TO EARLY TIMES AND TO STARCRAFT, FOR BRINGING A devious TRINITY TOGETHER FOR A TIME.CHEESE FRIES ROCK YOUR ASS.
EVERYONE WITH A VAGINA HAS SCHEMED FOR SOMETHING STUPID AND UTTERLY POINTLESS AT LEAST TWICE IN HER LIFE.
GODDAMNIT, IT IS NOT ALWAYS MY FUCKING FAULT.
DO YOU WANT ME TO STOP FIGHTING?
DO YOU WANT ME TO STOP FIGHTING?!
be careful what you wish for. you just may get it. but i know in my heart of hearts that you will come to hate what it is you desire the most, at least, from me.
crying ne'er helps.
JUST LET ME SMOKE MY FUCKING CIGARETTE AND TRY VAINLY NOT TO CRY LIKE A WEAK FUCKING CUNT.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"
gloria patri et filio, et spiritui sancto, sicut erat in principio. et nunc et semper, et in saecula, saeculorum, amen.amen.
despite everything i pretend i'm not, in the truest parts of myself i know that you are the best thing that ever happened to me.
sappy shit, ain't it?
