Mechanic

I'm a fixer.
a problem solver.
a self-confidence regainer.
a developer of ideals.
a sponsor of emotional growth.
a helper.
a self esteem producer.
an attention giver.
a dream fulfiller.
a passion maker.
an ego teacher.
a false expectation breaker.
a natural love giver.

I carry everyone's burden until it's no longer one...wish my back would snap already.


- "SNAP" -

tHE. eND.

Wishful typing?

nah, won't die just yet...a little inside every day maybe, but that's a regular.

Random Scream-off

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

just go get shot in the head!!!!!

White light

I start thinking over and over and over and over again "what went wrong"? Do I have a cosmic joke poster in my back, held up by double sided scotch tape on my skin? Are all my clothes see through? Did I wake up and forget to put on my panties...again? Did I spill chocolate ice cream on the front of a white shirt? oh, wait, I don't own a white shirt...nevermind.
I feel as if I'd been pissed on by a dinosaur, something irreversible, kinda shocking, disturbing, and that will never get off my mind.

OFF I SAY!

But it won't listen, it just stares at me, blankly, like a five year old when you explain the meaning of the words serial killer, trying to understand why a killer that enjoys cereal is a worse person than a regular one...blank, round eyes, confused, maybe tearful...
I have a five year old stare in my mind...I can't get it to go away, and I need it to, because it's turning into an annoying little brat, claiming attention every time I manage to get it caught in some other more interesting and less binding drift...

I'm psichologically blind. I weave eternal webs that curtain my anger...that filter my outbursts, that break me down into a million little puzzle pieces which are, in turn, marked red in the back with a letter or number to make it easier to get them back together again.

I'm predictable.
I've become boring.
I've turned into a social slut.

And I disgust myself.

So fuck off, me! I never wanna see me again! I can go straight to hell, cause I've paved the road with idiocy and contempt. So fuck me! Fuck my ideals! Fuck my state of mind!

Fuck everything and anything that has to do with me, and you too, jsut for being a limp bystander with zero perspective and denying the undeniable. You can go to hell too, and all of yours.

Love Love Love!