Wednesday, March 10, 2010

The Ghosts Are Creepin' In...


Anybody else in them? It's a sad thing when you have to wish bad things for yourself to get out of the everyday bullshit you have to deal with...
Broken arms, the wheel to go out on your minivan so as to cause it to turn and flip repeatedly until you are thrown out of the window and smashed by said minivan...
Maybe just better to give up, turn catatonic and let people take care of you.
Awhile back, someone said I was an attention whore. They said I threw ending my life out there like it was a life raft or something...
Truth is, it hit me like a sack of potatoes. I had really many times come close, yet somehow woke up. Who knows, maybe the comments hit me right in the... pride?
I'm constantly left with thoughts on my behavior, on my... interactions with everyone else in this crazy, mixed up world.
I think when you are down, you are all alone. Thought someone loved you?
Wrong.
Thought someone was actually interested in your little take on what up?
Wrong.
Selfless acts are, more often that not, a final nail in the coffin. The day I shirk these chains and get myself completely together, someone will come along and throw another shitload on.
Hot Tub Time Machine, my ass. I can go no further than the day my daughter was born.
What I endure on a daily basis, is it fantasy?
You see things like Corey Haim passing and you go, "Hmmmmmm, that's fucked up."
Why was no one giving a shit while he was alive? Where were all of you?
Beautiful things die or are trampled underfoot. Someone do an autopsy to see what size sneaker prints were on his throat.
Lucas.
Silver Bullet.
Dream a little dream for us, won't you please?
I remember when that movie came out. Where I went to high school, fashion was Levi's and Ocean Pacific. Except for the Michael Jackson nods, that was a damn fine movie.
Ramble, ramble...
I have an IPPS review coming up at work, and I'm sure to fail. I'm beginning to not care, though.
We are set up to fail, unless we have something they want. Like pouty lips or breastices...
I wish I could set up a direct link to my brain, so whoever can pick through it and take what they wanted. I tire of this now...

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