post dated stress syndrome: 8/21/03
metallica rules, and your a fucking dog, so where is the marzapan, or how i stopped having anxiety attacks and learned to love the white album.
post script:
part one and three:
i once saw derrick thomas fuck up in a game during the fourth quarter against the jets. his mistake aloud the jets to regain the lead. he was so emotionally drained and had so much adrenaline pumping he was in tears on the bench. to hide him self from probing tv cameras he covered his head with a towel and spent 2 minutes weaping to gain his composure. he then made two huge plays on the jets next possession and the chiefs won the game. i dont remember the score date or location of where i witnessed but i remember the tears. in the past year ive spent good time with that towel. all i wanted to do was play football and youd think it wouldnt be to much to ask, granted it was stupid and selfish, i shut all the real out and focused on the field and superficial action to get myself through the season, i lost my hand and my lover. but at least im tough played through pain and pressure torn ligaments dislocations and love like a rock 61% on my grade outs all season and 3.65 gpa on the semester, so the important shit is down and gone, you can always find love.
i hate the way i feel, heart broken and tired for a year im bored with it, but my head and heart refuse to move on no matter how drunk, how much sex, how many good times or trivial academic accomplishments.
new years resolutions:
1) lose weight
2) grow hair two more inches
3) finish senior video project
4) touch up your tattoo, earn cash to get three quarters to full sleeve in seatle
5) get degree
6) get a job
7) fall in love, or find a decent meaning
so new years eve i hung out with suicide girls.com and skin Amax, fell asleep on my parents leather couch in cape cod, because a close family friend who is to old to sleep on the couch is using my bed. masturbation, masturbation, masturbation, i can say that cause no one reads thses things
part two:
back to part one and thats the dream to be screened on cable or local access performing sub human feets of athletic prow less with what would you do with a drunken sailer humming in the fore ground. broad casted right before new years day and the bcs extravaganza. the day i first got scared was in September of 1997. tough guy to pride full and afraid to leave the game evan though i was getting fucked, burned out and spread thin, but when you find the first thing that your good at theat your well at you hesitate and give pain of pressure and burses not to leave quit and walk. tough guy, now I wake up every morning limping the kinks out of pounded joints, the woman of love is lost and I have day mares of being fat lonely and balding sitting in a gloomy corner of McDonalds classic eating big macs by the e half dozen 12 times a week for pleasure, i cant fly on airplanes with out tearing during the in-flight movie, Im addicted to porn and all I want is to quit life for a year or two and move back in with my parents. Some fucking tough guy. Im support to be the well of upper middle class white Christian male and have no problems, but whereas the drama in that, I want to work at a soup kitchen, its a good thing know body reads these things or Id have to right all this down in a journal and that would be pretty fucking metro, and I dont want to be androgynous I want to be a man, with a few tattoos.
metallica rules, and your a fucking dog, so where is the marzapan, or how i stopped having anxiety attacks and learned to love the white album.
post script:
part one and three:
i once saw derrick thomas fuck up in a game during the fourth quarter against the jets. his mistake aloud the jets to regain the lead. he was so emotionally drained and had so much adrenaline pumping he was in tears on the bench. to hide him self from probing tv cameras he covered his head with a towel and spent 2 minutes weaping to gain his composure. he then made two huge plays on the jets next possession and the chiefs won the game. i dont remember the score date or location of where i witnessed but i remember the tears. in the past year ive spent good time with that towel. all i wanted to do was play football and youd think it wouldnt be to much to ask, granted it was stupid and selfish, i shut all the real out and focused on the field and superficial action to get myself through the season, i lost my hand and my lover. but at least im tough played through pain and pressure torn ligaments dislocations and love like a rock 61% on my grade outs all season and 3.65 gpa on the semester, so the important shit is down and gone, you can always find love.
i hate the way i feel, heart broken and tired for a year im bored with it, but my head and heart refuse to move on no matter how drunk, how much sex, how many good times or trivial academic accomplishments.
new years resolutions:
1) lose weight
2) grow hair two more inches
3) finish senior video project
4) touch up your tattoo, earn cash to get three quarters to full sleeve in seatle
5) get degree
6) get a job
7) fall in love, or find a decent meaning
so new years eve i hung out with suicide girls.com and skin Amax, fell asleep on my parents leather couch in cape cod, because a close family friend who is to old to sleep on the couch is using my bed. masturbation, masturbation, masturbation, i can say that cause no one reads thses things
part two:
back to part one and thats the dream to be screened on cable or local access performing sub human feets of athletic prow less with what would you do with a drunken sailer humming in the fore ground. broad casted right before new years day and the bcs extravaganza. the day i first got scared was in September of 1997. tough guy to pride full and afraid to leave the game evan though i was getting fucked, burned out and spread thin, but when you find the first thing that your good at theat your well at you hesitate and give pain of pressure and burses not to leave quit and walk. tough guy, now I wake up every morning limping the kinks out of pounded joints, the woman of love is lost and I have day mares of being fat lonely and balding sitting in a gloomy corner of McDonalds classic eating big macs by the e half dozen 12 times a week for pleasure, i cant fly on airplanes with out tearing during the in-flight movie, Im addicted to porn and all I want is to quit life for a year or two and move back in with my parents. Some fucking tough guy. Im support to be the well of upper middle class white Christian male and have no problems, but whereas the drama in that, I want to work at a soup kitchen, its a good thing know body reads these things or Id have to right all this down in a journal and that would be pretty fucking metro, and I dont want to be androgynous I want to be a man, with a few tattoos.