So it's Sunday, about 10 minutes to 4pm.
The sun is shining brightly, but it's not hot. Hell, it's an incredibly beautiful day. Sky's bright blue...
and I can feel a cool breeze.
I want to get out there and do SOMETHING with anyone.
But as it so often happens, whenever I flip through my address book I realize...
I'm alone.
Yes, I know... I know... I sound like a fucking emo kid.
What do 'emo kids' have to be 'emo' about anyway?
Their parents won't give them more cash so they can get more ugly-looking 'emo stuff'?
Oh yes. Stuff like eyeliner, special hair gel, shoes... to achieve that 'emo look' that's OH-so-expensive to do.
Not to mention emo music which makes the sound of a thousand toddlers screaming angrily for more pudding seem like a work of pure genius.
If anyone has a right to be 'emo', it's middle-aged adults like me. No family, no friends. Dead-end job. Decaying body (oh come on, you KNOW it is!), and the list just keeps going on and on and on...
WE should be fucking 'emo'.
Plus, if nothing else, we can afford our own clothes, not like those little shits.
Great. I've just realized that my sentences now go on forever.
I used to value brevity. But my vocabulary's in a shambles right now.
I know basic words and how to string together a basic sentence.
No grace. Just crap.
OK fine. My style wasn't grateful to begin with.
Shut the fuck up.
It's going to be extremely hard getting back to the way I was.
Picture trying to grab a chicken high on ecstacy, then multiply it by a hundred.
But eh, I don't have much a choice now do I?
Well enough of that.
Fuck every single one of you.
Have a nice day!
Bitches.
