I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself but shits hard to rearrange. Everyday I'm given lil post-it notes with updates on how shitty my life is. Its like getting flipped off by your moms, makes you blink and think. I hate how the shit makes me feel about things. Its a gnawing sickness in the stomach and it don't sleep. It grows and spreads. It makes me go crazy and I start hating things that I love. Friends become reminders of inadequacy, of the struggle. It will turn you cold, believe me. If you get beat down enough to forget your lucky. You get sold on others dreams. Running around chasing their shadows. Forgetting about yourself and why your arithmetic, always seems off, no matter how many times you add it up. 2+2=3 because your always short on something. Its easy to do though when the problem is also the answer. Its all connected and encompassing the realization is harder to swallow than the struggle. What makes your life hard? There are no different answers just different perspectives. I have to go no further than my mom for the example. Spends half her life seeking acceptance and love but looks in all the wrong places, she forgets about herself. She had the right answer but the equation was all fucked. She had only to look in the mirror for the cure to her pain. Instead she broke every mirror in the house and shit became chronic. No curing her now. Shits highly contagious. Just livin in that stuffy apartment gave me a smokers cough. This monkey will always be on my back. All i can hope to do is shut him up, feeding him sweet yellow lies. But in the end their is always someone who gots worse who ain't got no monkey but a fuckin elephant. This fact of life shuts me up and gives a lil comfort. It spells out my place on the totem pole but its funny how their pain gives relief and the more i think about it, how I help dish theirs out. How those above me on that fuckin totem , spoon feed me until I'm gorged and how those above them baste those muthafuckas in their own shit. How their struggles are my struggles and my pain is their pain. Blah blah blah... Shit is funny. Everyone has the answer, just fucked up equations.
Sorry for the rant. My face is too withered for sunshine
Sorry for the rant. My face is too withered for sunshine
wow
i wish i could write like you. seriously, you write probably better than you think you do.