Friday, November 29, 2013
You have these small moments in your life where you realize that you’re
the type of person who could lose a toe and not lose sleep over it, the
kind of guy who wears a smelly hat in the bathtub with a shotgun in arms
reach. You start to recognize how you try and only wet the bottom half
of your fingers, maybe you’re trying to prove something or maybe you’re
just an asshole and like denying the top of your hand warm water. And
then you just sit there. thinking “this is the moment when all kinds of
memories should come running right at me” and nothing but the time you
bit a girl in second grade for stealing your pencil comes to mind. Then
you think maybe Felecia is sitting in pee water thinking about how some
crazy boy bit her arm and you wonder how she’s doing but then remember
you hate her for stealing your pencil and its just a vicious cycle.
thats what they meant by the circle of life. pee water reflecting over
pencil bandits. you pee a little and think I just peed on myself. And at
nights you’ve become this person who can’t sleep if theres a fly
pissing around your room and on other nights you want the symphony in
your closet practicing and every written word you own covering you in
hopes to get paper cuts and let those silly authors sink into you so you
can walk around spouting off quotes. But who wants to be a quoter. who
wants to have the conversation skills of a four shot burst. “oh you will
notice all these moments where you discover that you are no longer a
child but an adult!” eating the heels in a bag of bread, that was my big
moment and for some reason there’s always some mysterious screw just
laying in my floor. I believe it was Thomas Jefferson that once said:
“hey, how are you” my toes are bruised and i hate being in this pee
water alone. minimalist million dollar homes all can lick my (whats that
fancy word that starts with an “A” for nipple?) these are just some
things that didn’t deserve to be written down but would have probably
gave me a pimples had they not been said.
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