discusstin

death. its such an easy thing to ignore. but sometimes it fucking hits you. it doesn't hit you like some drunk fuck either. it floors you. like a semi. here i was enjoying a breakfast i couldnt afford, sipping a lonestar at 8 am when i saw a mother and a daughter who were disproportional in age. i watched only because they were directly in front of me. trust me i'd prefer they were elsewhere. i told my waitress i'd take there ticket. their waitress, who'd had a look of concern in her eye the whole time. asked if there was anything i wanted to tell them. i told her no. i had left the waitress a note. i told her so. i politely thanked her and told her they reminded me of my mother and i. after telling the kid she had a beautiful sweater, i sat in the parking lot of a friend who happened to live nearbye and bawled my fuckin eyes out.
i got a wave from someone who pulled into the lot. i managed to get carded buying beer at 8:30 in the morning. what fucking minor buys pabst blue ribbon at 8:30 in the morning with fucking tears pouring out of their eyes. i almost spit in the guy's face. a grocery store employee. for some reason they seem to be the most contemptuous of the shit job employees. i never was when i worked that job. i didn't learn to hate people until much fucking later in life. i'd been taught how to much earlier, i just never learned.