I am 98% sure I have tonsilitis but I have no money to go to the doctor... I am in horribly pain and i keep taking tylenol... luckily my mom works at a dentist office and had her boss call in a prescription up here to get me some antibiotics... fuck pain... and yes... I am starting to write a book... read:
October 1st year.
Eric:
Look over on the couch, with a guitar and a cigarette, is it a bird? Is it a plane? No it's the equivalent of a train-wreck! Its just your average cynical superhero... too apathetic to save the day... *enter cheesy theme music* and his trusty sidekick alcohol. That's right the deflated duo. Your average cynical super hero- with the power to repel females, consume large quantities of alcohol, play in a stalemated band, and smoke a lot of cigarettes while working a job leading to nowhere!
And alcohol- with the power to leave you chubbier, more sluggish, lazier, less presentable, much less attractive and increase your sex drive leaps and bounds.
Constantly fending off the powers of Internet Man, Hiding the Remote-ster, and not enough food in the fridge kid. Today's adventure begins the same way it does everyday, by not showering, and having a cigarette with tousled hair from a worthless preceding night, your hero awakes in a pool of his own sweat, from the nightmare that is his life, alcohol by his side. Watch as the pathetic story unfolds... Someone crush my fucking skull.
The sunlight spills over the filth and array of human garbage that is the 9-5 composite of society walking preset courses along the streets like trains upon their dull, lifeless tracks some derailing, some merely running out of steam, and those behind them, just step over the fallens broken bodies and continue to their days of adhering to a greater good or so it is supposed.
Ok, so maybe it is not as bad a picture as I paint it to be, but hey, I need that reassurance to allow myself to feel as if I am not contained, that I am a free-spirit, that I am someone interesting and uphold such a higher level of understanding than those who can just offer forth their souls on silver platters in order to live the American dream. But in reality, these people just need a different kind of assurance, a different kind of worth, though theirs is monetary mine is artistic which honestly, is achieving less. And creeping at the folds and corners of my self- declared superior brain is the temptation to just forfeit my integrity for mediocrity with the promise of stability. Fuck me I am such a masked sellout, but hey, weve all had dreams that weve abandoned to fulfill others but is passion something I can sacrifice?
The names Eric, you can ask me what I do, you can ask me who I am, what I feel, the way I think, you can ask me about my sense of humor, about the things I like, the clothes I wear, you can ask me my political affiliations, you can ask me who Ive loved, who Ive fucked, If I smoke (which I do, far too much), if I drink (which I also do, sometimes I feel as if I do that far too little), you can ask me about my relationship with my parents, or siblings There are so many doors to choose from to try and create some sort of structure in your mind about who I am, and who I will be but I will tell you now if you think that any of your preconceived notions about what I would do in heavy situations will fall into place like theatre curtains, then you are sadly mistaken know one knows exactly what I have endured, and certainly no one has experienced the exact same series of events as me, especially with the same temperaments, mindsets, opinions, morals, or even just the amount a person can take before losing their precious little minds knowing this, you are about to enter a period of my life of which I am not proud, nor am really ashamed of, most would definitely pick a side of the fence when viewing from any perspective but those of my eyes but myself, I am genuinely frigid and emotionless about the whole experience now which is strange, it is not someone I would have ever guess to grow into but I am this man, and I was that man, and tomorrow I do not expect to be anything but a dead man so tune in folks tomorrow at 8 on Fox shotgun blast to the fucking head bring the kids America loves that shit, right?
October 3rd Year
Shannyn:
Lara threw up in my bed again I want to strangle that bitch. I walked in on her and her boyfriend fucking last night too Hes so disgusting how is he disgusting you ask? Let me count the ways:
a. His pretentious manner of deliberately liking everything that know one likes in order to seem edgy or underground as if he were the epitome of artist.
b. His filthy beard composed of preteen pubic hair
c. The fact that he would keep having sex with this girl while she was vomiting he is fucking repulsive
But he does have beautiful eyes and a strong body and I think, if I had just met him, I would probably at least suck his cock, and definitely let me go down on me its been awhile since I had that I miss the smell of boys its not like I havent had chances but I was always so drunk or high that I never really felt up to it. For awhile I was trying out girls, they seemed more sensitive, more playful, and less I wish there was a word that could represent how a man can be so square and a woman can be so gorgeously contoured and complex but I am not a dyke, so I stuck to dick, its what I am most comfortable with anyway. So maybe I am a little blunt and maybe I can own up to the fact that I have a libido, unlike these fake plastic sluts who love to play innocent but fuck every guy they meet at some river party. Fuck those kinds of girls.
I am out of paint and pot I need some more of both maybe Ill go steal some from Taryn Im horny too maybe Ill give girls another shot.
October 1st Year
Neill:
Oh Jesus
Oh Jesus, oh fuck
God fucking shit.
What was I thinking? Why couldnt I have applied a little fucking tact? I had to fuck her didnt I? I had to succumb to the need to cum FUCK!
FUCK!!!!!
Shes late Shes fucking late and shes fucking 16 I could go to JAIL.
I need to shoot up I need to now.
I scuffle through the apartment knocking things in every direction. Wheres my needle wheres my shit?
Fuck I found it
Wheres my lighter. WHERE THE FUCK IS MY LIGHTER?!?!?!
There it is
I cook it
I suck it in
I poke myself
Push the plunger
Everythings cool
Another batch
Inject
Everythings cool
I need a little more
Bake it
Stab myself
Everythings coool.
October 1st year.
Eric:
Look over on the couch, with a guitar and a cigarette, is it a bird? Is it a plane? No it's the equivalent of a train-wreck! Its just your average cynical superhero... too apathetic to save the day... *enter cheesy theme music* and his trusty sidekick alcohol. That's right the deflated duo. Your average cynical super hero- with the power to repel females, consume large quantities of alcohol, play in a stalemated band, and smoke a lot of cigarettes while working a job leading to nowhere!
And alcohol- with the power to leave you chubbier, more sluggish, lazier, less presentable, much less attractive and increase your sex drive leaps and bounds.
Constantly fending off the powers of Internet Man, Hiding the Remote-ster, and not enough food in the fridge kid. Today's adventure begins the same way it does everyday, by not showering, and having a cigarette with tousled hair from a worthless preceding night, your hero awakes in a pool of his own sweat, from the nightmare that is his life, alcohol by his side. Watch as the pathetic story unfolds... Someone crush my fucking skull.
The sunlight spills over the filth and array of human garbage that is the 9-5 composite of society walking preset courses along the streets like trains upon their dull, lifeless tracks some derailing, some merely running out of steam, and those behind them, just step over the fallens broken bodies and continue to their days of adhering to a greater good or so it is supposed.
Ok, so maybe it is not as bad a picture as I paint it to be, but hey, I need that reassurance to allow myself to feel as if I am not contained, that I am a free-spirit, that I am someone interesting and uphold such a higher level of understanding than those who can just offer forth their souls on silver platters in order to live the American dream. But in reality, these people just need a different kind of assurance, a different kind of worth, though theirs is monetary mine is artistic which honestly, is achieving less. And creeping at the folds and corners of my self- declared superior brain is the temptation to just forfeit my integrity for mediocrity with the promise of stability. Fuck me I am such a masked sellout, but hey, weve all had dreams that weve abandoned to fulfill others but is passion something I can sacrifice?
The names Eric, you can ask me what I do, you can ask me who I am, what I feel, the way I think, you can ask me about my sense of humor, about the things I like, the clothes I wear, you can ask me my political affiliations, you can ask me who Ive loved, who Ive fucked, If I smoke (which I do, far too much), if I drink (which I also do, sometimes I feel as if I do that far too little), you can ask me about my relationship with my parents, or siblings There are so many doors to choose from to try and create some sort of structure in your mind about who I am, and who I will be but I will tell you now if you think that any of your preconceived notions about what I would do in heavy situations will fall into place like theatre curtains, then you are sadly mistaken know one knows exactly what I have endured, and certainly no one has experienced the exact same series of events as me, especially with the same temperaments, mindsets, opinions, morals, or even just the amount a person can take before losing their precious little minds knowing this, you are about to enter a period of my life of which I am not proud, nor am really ashamed of, most would definitely pick a side of the fence when viewing from any perspective but those of my eyes but myself, I am genuinely frigid and emotionless about the whole experience now which is strange, it is not someone I would have ever guess to grow into but I am this man, and I was that man, and tomorrow I do not expect to be anything but a dead man so tune in folks tomorrow at 8 on Fox shotgun blast to the fucking head bring the kids America loves that shit, right?
October 3rd Year
Shannyn:
Lara threw up in my bed again I want to strangle that bitch. I walked in on her and her boyfriend fucking last night too Hes so disgusting how is he disgusting you ask? Let me count the ways:
a. His pretentious manner of deliberately liking everything that know one likes in order to seem edgy or underground as if he were the epitome of artist.
b. His filthy beard composed of preteen pubic hair
c. The fact that he would keep having sex with this girl while she was vomiting he is fucking repulsive
But he does have beautiful eyes and a strong body and I think, if I had just met him, I would probably at least suck his cock, and definitely let me go down on me its been awhile since I had that I miss the smell of boys its not like I havent had chances but I was always so drunk or high that I never really felt up to it. For awhile I was trying out girls, they seemed more sensitive, more playful, and less I wish there was a word that could represent how a man can be so square and a woman can be so gorgeously contoured and complex but I am not a dyke, so I stuck to dick, its what I am most comfortable with anyway. So maybe I am a little blunt and maybe I can own up to the fact that I have a libido, unlike these fake plastic sluts who love to play innocent but fuck every guy they meet at some river party. Fuck those kinds of girls.
I am out of paint and pot I need some more of both maybe Ill go steal some from Taryn Im horny too maybe Ill give girls another shot.
October 1st Year
Neill:
Oh Jesus
Oh Jesus, oh fuck
God fucking shit.
What was I thinking? Why couldnt I have applied a little fucking tact? I had to fuck her didnt I? I had to succumb to the need to cum FUCK!
FUCK!!!!!
Shes late Shes fucking late and shes fucking 16 I could go to JAIL.
I need to shoot up I need to now.
I scuffle through the apartment knocking things in every direction. Wheres my needle wheres my shit?
Fuck I found it
Wheres my lighter. WHERE THE FUCK IS MY LIGHTER?!?!?!
There it is
I cook it
I suck it in
I poke myself
Push the plunger
Everythings cool
Another batch
Inject
Everythings cool
I need a little more
Bake it
Stab myself
Everythings coool.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
adeline:
I loved everything I just read! I can relate to Shannyns bluntness. Neill reminds me of a friend, sadly. Hopefully theres more to come.
adeline:
Your poetry is haunting and it leaves me aching for more...I'm an emotion junkie.