(iv) Lost
No not now. Please not now. I don’t understand why this is happening. Why this can happen. Please. I can’t deal with any more. Just please, give me a break, someone. I don’t know who. God? Are you there? If you are, are you listening? Do you care? Why would you do this to me? I know you didn’t do it. I did it myself. But why are you doing this to me? I can barely keep myself upright. I can barely keep myself from screaming the world into oblivion. The more I try though, the more you fuck with me. THE MORE YOU FUCK WITH ME. You fuck! You absolute fucking….. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I think I can blame anyone but myself. I’m such a piece of crap. I can’t believe that I lasted this long without anyone fucking me up like this before. I just can’t believe. I just can’t fucking stop thinking. I just can’t. Please just give me a moments rest. Please. I was so happy now i can’t remember how to smile. I think I’m going to be sick. Bleuuu……. No. not even that. Can’t even purge myself. Can’t even get rid of all this shit inside me. If only I could. Those toxins. Those fucked up bits floating inside. I don’t think they caused me to be this way though. I don’t think I could just throw them out of my mouth and out of my life so simply. Just by sticking my finger down my throat. Well maybe my middle finger. Say fuck you to me. Fuck me’s not right though. No one will ever want to fuck me again will they. I’m such a fucking mess. I’m such a piece of crap. I don’t think that anyone ever wanted to fuck me in the first place, it was just because I was there. It was like an animal thing, they needed me, they never wanted me. No-one has ever wanted me. I don’t want me, so I don’t blame them. If only I could make myself change. If only I could make myself a better person. But I don’t think people like me get that second chance. I don’t think people like me get to be different. We don’t get to be better. We? Who’s we? It’s just me. I don’t think that I get to be better. I don’t get anything given to me, and I’m too fucking shit to ever be able to change myself. All my friends have changed. It’s amazing to see their lives just get better and better and mine to just stay the same. Mine to just stay like a cess pool in which I swim around, pretending i’m happy, calling out to the others walking around as if I’ve got a great life. But I don’t I’m in my own shit just barely keeping my head above the surface. I’m not fucking waving, I’m drowning. Why can no-one tell the difference? Why is no-one out there to help me. Why does no-one say, fucking hell, you’re swimming in shit, want some help? I would probably say no anyway. Always being needlessly polite. Always letting other people do what they want even though if I’d just stuck up for myself for a minute then my life could have been so much better. Oh well fuck it. I don’t care. I’m going to keep on being the same piece of shit, but from now on if someone fucks with me then I’m going to fuck with them too. Yeah, I’m fucking going to do what I’ve always wanted. Like spit in public. Yeah, I liked that. Oh shit I got that old lady. Fuck her, just keep walking. Maybe a bit faster. What’s she gonna do? Run to keep up? Haha. Wait that’s not funny. But it was nice to laugh. My headache faded for just a second. I think I’ve cried all the liquid out of my brain. It feels like it’s condensing. God damn that hurts. Need to laugh. What’s funny? Two dyslexic guys walk into a bra. Ha ha. That’s not really funny. It’s like those fucking mice I saw on TV. You can’t make yourself laugh. Maybe if I spit on another old lady! Ha ha. Oww. That was just mean wasn’t it. What about this guy. I could spit on him. Yeah, he’s some cross dressing sky captain is he. Well sky captain this. Ha ha, right in the face. Oops, best move down the platform before he clears his eyes. Wooo. That was fun. Maybe I should just be a bitch then. That was pretty funny. Life would be much simpler if I just spat in all those fuckers who fucked with me’s faces. What’s all that commotion? Excuse me Officer, what’s going on? Someone fell on the tracks? Oh, that’s terrible? Were they pushed? No they seemed like they were blinded? Oh fuck. Swiftly moving on. Oh no. Oh fucking no. What have I done? I’m such a piece of….
Labels: Stories
5 Comments:
hmm not sure how seriously to take you sometimes, but if you are being serious, then i'm worried. maybe youre just looking for attention? you could complain about life being lame all the time, but then whats wrong with it? you have lots of friends and a girl who loves you, what the fuck is there to complain about? maybe the fact that all the good things in life arent handed to you on a plate? maybe your just hungover, which would explain everything. but maybe your upset because everyone you saw on saturday has continued to live thier life while you werent there? the shock of the world actually carrying on while you look away can be a lot to take in sometimes. anyways, i love you and thats all that is important, sostop talking crap and lets go get high.
um... its part of the ongoing story that dee asked me to write. i've never spat in an old ladies face
Apparently its not nice to spit in peoples face's, but the only drawback i can see is cotton mouth. Oh no wait they might fall infront of a train as well, but thats not nearly as annoying as cotton mouth. Well not for the spitter any how.
i like how you specify you've never spat in an old ladies face. does that mean you've spat in other peoples faces from a different demographic?
old ladies are the only people i can rely on for good directions. of course i wouldn't spit in their faces.
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