"I didn't want for this blog to turn into This Sort of Thing."
Emo. I am having a shitty week so far. It is only a day old. I am filled with a desire to rip people's limbs from their body. I said "I want to find out if these hands have strength to pull flesh from bone." I said "I want to punch her head off her shoulders." I said "I want to use this illness for evil."
I have a cold and it is painful and I feel like my nose has been blown red raw and that the inside of my face is a smouldering mess. I feel like my sinuses have been fucked by a massive virus dick. I feel like I do not really know what a 'sinuses' is.
Sometimes I feel so dumb and that I do not understand what other people want or feel. I think that I am having a nice time, that we are having a nice time, that everyone is happy and things are going well and everything might just turn out ok, only to find that I have somehow jumped ahead about four steps and have ruined everything. I am forever in a constant state of confusion.
I have had confirmed what I always suspected, that employers aint about shit. I have been fucked about. God. Write something funny. Working is for the fucking proletariat and baby I am above that shit. I am smoke. I am outta here. I have one month. I am a rocket ship on my way to Mars on a collision course, set to explode on impact with the faces of every douche that has kept a good man down.
I will be thinking of you.
On the other hand, I will soon be prodding and poking the kitten mention in this post.
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2 comments:
I think you have to accept your limitations, like I did with mine:
It all started in the first grade, where, the teacher, that bitch, picked on me in class. She always tried to encourage me to spell words correctly, but I simple could not do that. I didn't like words, 'cause they really sucked. As matter of absolute fact, I missed at least 4 of 5 recesses, and 3 of 5 gym classes, every God-Damned week. Spell the ones you got wrong 25 times please. So, I have become embittered toward those things you know as words. I immensely hate those thing, and I flunked the 4th grade because of them. So, my hatred for words goes back a long way.
After not learning how to spell, I learned about nouns, adverbs, adjectives, and things like that, but to my surprise, all those things were, you guest it, words. It's like I could never get away from those things. As soon as I was grasping the concept of word-types, which was very little in first place, they started putting words together called sentences. On top of that, sentences had structure too! Damn, all these shitty rules to think about, and the exceptions, it's no wonder I was consider mentally disturbed by the time I was a senior in high school.
After not learning, well that is, sentence structures, the public education system threw me yet another curve ball. Those nasty little things were called paragraphs. Now I had to know how to spell, know what type of words to use, use that previous knowledge to create sentences, and finally, put a bunch of those hideous sentences together to form a paragraph. Thank God, English in high school stopped right there!
Only after that it might be possible to evolve in that.
feel better Chris!
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