Not Good
Hearing the incessent ticking of this clock on my shelf is unnerving. Time is passing and my brain isn't working.
My desk is horribly cluttered. Perhaps contributing to my lazy brain, or, perhaps, an after-effect of it. An empty 2L Dr. Pepper bottle, a dirty plate with chewed gum on it. The Sims 2 box splayed out in all it's glory. Oh little sister, you ruin everything.
My messy desk mirrors today, and, like the desk, I'd like to think today wasn't my fault either.
Some people ask such silly questions: "Did I look good today?"
"What does it matter if you've already won?" I think.
"Salt on the wound?" it's as if though she's saying.
"No thanks. Well... if you insist..." Does that sound right?
No. Nothing coming out sounds right. Everything is bungled and messy and hard.
He said everything, and none of it was what I wanted to hear.
Pure frustration and exasperation, followed by resignation and an agreement to disagree - and to think, the whole time, all I needed was a hug to tell me nothing had changed, or that everything had changed but that it was okay.
But no, instead the seconds turned into minutes, and the minutes into hours, and February 28th into March 1st - and it'll be some time more before I can call to say I'm sorry. I'm afraid this ticking clock will change my mind again. Stubborness thrives within me although it doesn't become me, and I'll forget what I've learned, or at least deny it. It'll be a new day, and I'll wake up ready to face it; ready to conquer, and it'll be a while before I realize I've beaten myself again.
Why do I cling to these childish impossibilities?
I have these moments of pure lucid daydreaming that I cling to for some unfathomable reason. And when something good stares me right in the face, I want that other thing, the one I can't have - the one I deliberately sabotaged.
These thoughts are just like this damned clock: intrusive and distracting and reminding me that nothing has changed although everything has. And it makes no sense. Why make things hard when they're easy? Time-is-a-wasting, and you, my dear Dunja, are a giant idiot.
*Shrugs* On a lighter note...
My desk is horribly cluttered. Perhaps contributing to my lazy brain, or, perhaps, an after-effect of it. An empty 2L Dr. Pepper bottle, a dirty plate with chewed gum on it. The Sims 2 box splayed out in all it's glory. Oh little sister, you ruin everything.
My messy desk mirrors today, and, like the desk, I'd like to think today wasn't my fault either.
Some people ask such silly questions: "Did I look good today?"
"What does it matter if you've already won?" I think.
"Salt on the wound?" it's as if though she's saying.
"No thanks. Well... if you insist..." Does that sound right?
No. Nothing coming out sounds right. Everything is bungled and messy and hard.
He said everything, and none of it was what I wanted to hear.
Pure frustration and exasperation, followed by resignation and an agreement to disagree - and to think, the whole time, all I needed was a hug to tell me nothing had changed, or that everything had changed but that it was okay.
But no, instead the seconds turned into minutes, and the minutes into hours, and February 28th into March 1st - and it'll be some time more before I can call to say I'm sorry. I'm afraid this ticking clock will change my mind again. Stubborness thrives within me although it doesn't become me, and I'll forget what I've learned, or at least deny it. It'll be a new day, and I'll wake up ready to face it; ready to conquer, and it'll be a while before I realize I've beaten myself again.
Why do I cling to these childish impossibilities?
I have these moments of pure lucid daydreaming that I cling to for some unfathomable reason. And when something good stares me right in the face, I want that other thing, the one I can't have - the one I deliberately sabotaged.
These thoughts are just like this damned clock: intrusive and distracting and reminding me that nothing has changed although everything has. And it makes no sense. Why make things hard when they're easy? Time-is-a-wasting, and you, my dear Dunja, are a giant idiot.
*Shrugs* On a lighter note...
posted by captain obvious at 1:11 a.m.
1 Comments:
you got OWNED suckA!!!
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