freefall
Yeah, so once again, I am unemployed, and oh man, what a terrible feeling. I mean, totally losing traction in your life is a scary thing in the first place, but then when you get a good job and then quit 4 months later much to the chagrin of your boss and co-workers so that you can move 3,000+ miles across the country to do what I so glibly refer to as "god only knows fucking what" you really have to start asking serious questions about your grip on reality. Right now, my plan is to sit on my ass, hungry because I have no money screaming "WHY OH WHY DID I QUIT MY I.T. JOB?? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH MEEEEE??" at the very tip top of my lungs.
But at least my skin is smoother, and now my hair is a delicious shade of "espresso". At least, that's what the box said the color was, and ohhhhh baby its really cool. Here I was thinking about cutting my hair, but no, fuck that, I'm just going to start dying it every month until it totally dissolves into polychromatic dust. You might be saying "dude, you could have just said 'multicolored' there, why did you have to get all fancy on me?" to which my insightful and analytical reply would be "well, I would characterize my primary motivation as: FUCK YOU!".
One last thought: I think I may have found a much more constructive method of self abuse. I never got into drugs. Would you believe they made me too normal? Yeah, seriously. All I did was talk about sitcoms and shit, it was horrible. I guess that's what happens when you have such a complex network of ultra-intense psychological problems. Yeah, and Razor Therapy is effective but leaves really really obvious scars...for a while, that is, until your body figures out how to thicken your skin to keep the knife from cutting you as well. That's god damn scary when you get to that point. No no, I'm going to start abusing myself with exercise. And man, Im totally psyched. Take right now, I'm in a kind of pain which numbs my overwhelming feelings of worthlessness and inadequacy , and yet, I can still talk about the process with normal people who aren't trying to consciously prove that they're more "wounded" than I am, or whatever that is. What the fuck is that exactly? Dude, I cut myself with a fucking KNIFE why do you still have to act like whatever the fuck is wrong with you is "deeper" or "more relevant" or whatever that's supposed to be. No way dude, exercise is going to get me out of all that. Plus I'll stop being such a porker, which is another excellent benefit.
Hmm. Well, this got shockingly personal. Here I was just going to tell you about my joblessness and the fact that I dyed my hair a cool color and started using a great moisturizer. Hmm. Well, good thing nobody reads my journal entries. That way I can just scream my angst into an audient void which won't judge or reject me.
And I guess that's comforting.
Yeah, so once again, I am unemployed, and oh man, what a terrible feeling. I mean, totally losing traction in your life is a scary thing in the first place, but then when you get a good job and then quit 4 months later much to the chagrin of your boss and co-workers so that you can move 3,000+ miles across the country to do what I so glibly refer to as "god only knows fucking what" you really have to start asking serious questions about your grip on reality. Right now, my plan is to sit on my ass, hungry because I have no money screaming "WHY OH WHY DID I QUIT MY I.T. JOB?? WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH MEEEEE??" at the very tip top of my lungs.
But at least my skin is smoother, and now my hair is a delicious shade of "espresso". At least, that's what the box said the color was, and ohhhhh baby its really cool. Here I was thinking about cutting my hair, but no, fuck that, I'm just going to start dying it every month until it totally dissolves into polychromatic dust. You might be saying "dude, you could have just said 'multicolored' there, why did you have to get all fancy on me?" to which my insightful and analytical reply would be "well, I would characterize my primary motivation as: FUCK YOU!".
One last thought: I think I may have found a much more constructive method of self abuse. I never got into drugs. Would you believe they made me too normal? Yeah, seriously. All I did was talk about sitcoms and shit, it was horrible. I guess that's what happens when you have such a complex network of ultra-intense psychological problems. Yeah, and Razor Therapy is effective but leaves really really obvious scars...for a while, that is, until your body figures out how to thicken your skin to keep the knife from cutting you as well. That's god damn scary when you get to that point. No no, I'm going to start abusing myself with exercise. And man, Im totally psyched. Take right now, I'm in a kind of pain which numbs my overwhelming feelings of worthlessness and inadequacy , and yet, I can still talk about the process with normal people who aren't trying to consciously prove that they're more "wounded" than I am, or whatever that is. What the fuck is that exactly? Dude, I cut myself with a fucking KNIFE why do you still have to act like whatever the fuck is wrong with you is "deeper" or "more relevant" or whatever that's supposed to be. No way dude, exercise is going to get me out of all that. Plus I'll stop being such a porker, which is another excellent benefit.
Hmm. Well, this got shockingly personal. Here I was just going to tell you about my joblessness and the fact that I dyed my hair a cool color and started using a great moisturizer. Hmm. Well, good thing nobody reads my journal entries. That way I can just scream my angst into an audient void which won't judge or reject me.
And I guess that's comforting.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
dorkasaurus rex
double lameburger with cheese
poop in your buttholes
and other odd off the wall sayings, that he dishes out randomly.... man, this guy is 6'7, long hair, mega sideburns..... wow. he's a crazy bastard, too. sometimes when we're hangin outside our apartment, he'll just chase after random cars....