Friday, June 06, 2003

i'm not very good at initiating deep meaningful conversations. i fucking suck at it, actually.

lately i just have this feeling i'm going to wind up like Dante in Clerks. blaming others and labeling them as the source of my misery, pining over girls i loved in high school, and just being stuck. stuck in a boring, overcrowded town surrounded by people who i despise with every fabric of my being and people i love so much that it causes me to morph into a melodramatic, overbearing asshole. i'd like to think there was more to life then morbid obsessions with having other people in control of your thoughts, emotions, and impulses and them not being aware of the control they have over you, but i just don't know. i don't know if it's my fault, or their fault, or my family's fault, but i guess everyone has a right to a life. the last thing i wanna do is bring down the people i care about.

everyone else can eat a bag of fag. if my scribblings make you half as uncomftorble as you've made me, it will all be worth it. i'm not your "voice". i'm not "one of the guys". i hate the clothes you wear, the music you listen to, the movies you watch, and the lives you lead. i can't relate to anyone so why should i be someone you can cudle up against when you feel a wittle bwu? keep your Dave Mathews and your Vin Diesel, i'm just fine with Soilent Green and Vincent Galo.

get fucked, get killed, get resurected, get fucked again, get killed again, and get your corpse stuck in a sewer pipe only to be discovered by a retarded 30 year old man in a Journey t-shirt. Someday love will find you, and then it will fuck you up the ass, shoot your dog, and give your grandmother a black eye.

death.

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