| Oh Joy! | ||
| 2000-07-14 || dawn breaks my jaw again | ||
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It's exactly what I don't want. It's exactly what I don't want to hear. You spend all this time trying to say the right things, unfortunately, none of the right things are said to me. The phone rings in the middle of the night, and all I get is fucking noise and nonsense. It might as well not ring. It's an empty fucking phone call, brought to me by Budweiser and some sort of fullfilment issues. Perhaps I never made myself clear. Perhaps I didn't get it across 10 years ago, I need to say it again. It's not funny to me. It's no fun. It's a bunch of fucking noise, obnoxious fucking noise that I want absolutely nothing to do with in the least bit. Do not bring me into it, please. I'm a good person, I'm nice, I'm friendly, I appreciate a lot of things. I don't get into it though. I have no need for it. Conversation is precious, not something that takes place because you think it should. Summertime, the living is easy. When the one day comes that you feel like meeting me, myself, and I then call. Don't call me with nothing ready. You're throwing words and guilt trips at me that I know mean nothing. You bring to the table something that I could care less about. A lifestyle, or better yet, a deathstyle that has "ESCAPE ARTIST" written in big black letters across it. Try this on for size, it may help you get to know yourself. Try being by yourself. Try thinking about life for 5, 6 days in a row by yourself. Not with the glee club. Try and get yourself alone in a room for 72 hours with nothing but yourself and then we can discuss people and why they suck. Try it out, I know you say you're like me. I know you all say you're like me. You barely know me, and you say things like that. I think he wants to talk to me right now. I think it would be a good idea to ring it now. He loves me. He respects me. He. This is my best friend right here. This guy I know. This guy I knew once, he told me all about everything. I told him all about me. I think he still knows my phone number. I think he's come over before. He's sat on the couch and talked about the weather, and the new building downtown. He helped decorate my living room. He know who I am. He is so in love with me, he doesn't even know it. He loves this life, he doesn't know it though. He could never think negative things about me. I can't believe him. Why is he such an asshole. Why is he so moody. Why does he act like that? Who does he think he is? Does he think he's better than me? My mouth hates getting filled with these words. My brain hates going into this mode. Please stop this. I can't help it. No you can help it, just don't even worry about anything. I don't think I can do that though. I can't sleep. I went to bed hours ago, and I'm here again. I went to bed with myself hours ago. I went to bed some guy yesterday, and woke up in the middle of the night this guy for some reason. I was woken up so I could become this guy for a few minutes. This guy was hopefully going to sleep for the remainder of the summer. This guy wanted to kill and end it. This guy hates talking like this. I can't imagine what it's like to feel one way all of the time anymore. It's so up and down right now. I really, really can't deal with life right now...and I can't find help. That's all it is.
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