Here, now In the heat of the moment Now you want it And you better own it Or I’ll own you And this thing will tatter And tarnish We’ll peel off the varnish Leave it raw Watch it fall Smash Who cares When you start exercising The things you don’t dare if there was a second to reel it in To throw that big fish back And start again It was gone With haste and wind It is gone And no one wins.
I find myself very against passive agressiveness yet unable to respond with anything other than the same. It’s hard to have constructive conversation with someone who doesn’t want to talk. It’s all very tiring.
You invited yourself anyway. And the upset you cause is not worth the 100 dollars I save because of your presence. Shoo fly, I thought you only had a 24 hour life-span.
I have an eating disorder…and not the good one where you get skinny and die fast..but the bad one where you get fat and die slow.
but right now I feel like an island that has forgotton it is a volcano. And the volcano is erupting and scaring away all of the life that clings to its’ superficial appeal.
I, along with my brother, went to visit my dad…it was very interesting, but that is not what I’m here to discuss.
I grew up in Dallas. It was a way of life. It was normal. Now, however, having been away for several years and living in a smaller town, I find the people there almost repulsive. Everyone has such an attitude of self-importance. Just walking through “Whole Foods” was like coming upon the water-bank where Narcissus now lives as a flower. I suppose maybe I’m just too down to earth. But I don’t care if alternative is believing that anyone gives a shit about anything that I’m wearing, doing, saying, fucking, eating, not eating, pimping, hating, loving, or spending money on.
I just wanna be real with you, all of you. But declarations like that merely echo back.
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yahoo home page
I felt like laughing and throwing up when I read that.
I become obsessed with things…rather quickly. I get all super nervous too. And then like stomach churny. And then a sick feeling. And then usually I realize I’m being unrealistic. So I get sad. What’s that all about? Maybe I have anxiety issues. Or maybe in those moments I feel like I have something exciting to live for. This sounds terrible. But true. And the strange thing is that even though I now know that I am occasionally prone to this..it still happens. I think we should be able to be more in control of our bodily reactions. But I guess they are reactions and that’s the point.
That I don’t care. Is that possible to be sorry that you don’t care? I think it is. It was on my own that I found out this: My patience is a mysterious empty bowl, when the bowl is full..my patience is gone…and you never know when that will be. That being said, I offer plenty of coupons ahead of time.
I guess what I’m saying is this: If you don’t have at least some of your shit together I find it impossible to like you because at some point your shit-storm will hover over my peaceful horizon. I don’t like for my environment to be disturbed needlessly like that. I just don’t.
