The problem with writing just for the sake of writing something… is that you usually end up talking about nothing, diddly-squat, nada, zip, zero: shit. So in thematic proportion to that oh-so-lovely introductory sentence, let me bore your intellectually-emaciated mind (oh shit) with absolutely everything that has to do with absolutely nothing.
My elbow is hurting from writing on my laptop at an awkward angle.
Im not sure why my stomach is making such loud noises.
I love my dog.
My arms are cold.
Where is the wire for my jars, I need that for tomorrow.
Fuck school.
Fuck walking to class.
I just had some pretty great sex about an hour ago.
Cinnamon.
I need a new bra.
Im tired.
Sex,
Sex,
Sex.
I’ll ramble until daybreak
To be successful (by which I mean either emotionally, physically, mentally, or whichever other dimension of living you wish to approach) there is a certain skill that must be mastered - frugality. And I mean this in each and every dimension possible.
I am tired of dealing with misconceptions.
Will somebody please change the motherfucking channel?
You hit a fork in the road,
And try to walk between, in the middle
God knows you aint a camper.
But baby please, look,
After one day
Two.
Those paths diverge
You’re gonna lose sight of both roads
End up so goddamn alone
And all you’ll have
Are those stains on your shirt
From those dirty dirty hands.
And God knows you aint a camper babe.
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