my life is made up of constant stress, that's all. actually that's a lie. that's not all. my life is made up of me being a giiiiant stressball mixed in with friends that listen to me talk about nothing and friends that i love to listen to and constant thought and constant observing and drinks and words and ink and paint and tears and rain and movies and books and showers and driving and killing and annnnnnnd and constant motion. babely boys with eyes i like to look at. i think that's it. constant motion. moving moving moving and the pace of a day seems so fucking fast but the pace of a week seems fast in the way that you don't really notice how much time has gone by or how much of nothing you've accomplished. and when you realize how much STUFF you have to get done you just want to go to bed and not leave the house and not really talk to anyone. doing things you know you shouldn't even think about. i'm not allowed to think about that buuuuuuuut i KNOW both of us do anyway. it's the STUFF that gets to me. the stuff that i don't want to do that is deemed vital by everyone else. not everyone. the bigger idea of everyone. you get the idea. all that fucking stuff that i know has to be completed and completed well but i still can't find the time to give a shit about? none of it will make you understand the world more... it won't make you understand how you feel more... how others around you feel... it won't help you explore in any significant way. wanting something more. striiiiiiving for something more. desperate for something more. a lot of bullshit wrapped up so tight that it takes a lot to relieve the frustrationnnnn. losing interest.......
there's a lot of things i wish i could say..... or... moreso express. yeah. that's it.
i need a mother fucking JOB. FUCK.
No comments:
Post a Comment