I tried to read what I wrote yesterday. I couldn’t. It was too boring. It was painfully boring. I’m such a drag. I had an idea to say something and it left. It seems to be leaving all the time. Not that it has ever really left, because it hasn’t. it just seems to be perpetually leaving. Never quite going, but getting further. Then again, that’s just temporary. I’m just impatient and mildly psychotic and yet so boring.
I’ll have to cut it out since there are expectations otherwise. There seems to be a rush of nice things that I ignore. I’m ignored so I’ll ignore others. A cycle of ignorance. Maybe I’ll start war over something stupid. I can’t imagine that it’s that hard. People seem to do it all of the time. That bitch Helen.
My desperate search to be cool is turning up rather subpar results. I mean it would only take a little bit to blow shit right out of the water. This body is stupid and gets tired and the mind is even worse and does even less. There’s so much that can be done.
Fuck it, I’m sick and tired of this. I’m sick and tired of writing about it and feeling bad for myself and wasting away the best years of my life. Every year is the best and I keep acting like their getting worse. I’m going to conquer this fucking rock. All of it, it’s mine because you know what? I am done with being ignored. I’m done with feeling powerless. I tired of feeling weight and I’m tired of feeling small.
If you stand in my way, be warned that I will be merciless. Well I suppose that’s not really true, but fate will fuck with everyone which makes you and I no exception. I think that’s the thing, that we all blame each other for fate. Which isn’t even that unreasonable. Oh look at my indecisiveness. Look at my struggle for stature. Listen to the church bells sound amazing grace. Listen to the car horn blare and the people shout and hoot and holler. Listen to the tires of the wet road. I wonder if any of these cars I see will crash. I wonder if that could happen to me. What if all of this talk of fate leads to nothing more than me being some statistic?
The tune has changed on the church bells. I don’t know what it is, but I shouldn’t really call the bells. It’s just a recording, I’m pretty sure. It stopped anyway. The sound has died. Something someone else would have said.
I’ll have to get up out of this chair now, if I want this to mean anything.