I’m not gonna be cute, ok? And I’m not gonna write about ironies and give ’em each a cute hamster name. And I don’t say things like “For serious” – don’t ask, it’s the first lingo-ish thing that comes to mind that I dislike. Instead I’ll take this time to mention how tragic I am sometimes. And ephemeral, too. With THIS much heat, with THIS much gas i burn on my own thoughts, alone, with how cringe-y I get being seen and heard (sometimes) I might… snap.

I used to rely on sleep but that’s not it anymore. I drink more often now – well more than i used to which is “often.” “You starve yourself in all ways.” They say “You have to love yourself more.” I say, “Ehhhh….gay.” I mean, I know I should fix this catastrophe, myself, but maybe some kind of slam in the right direction could help. Til that happens, I’ll work on this play which i’m really starting to like, finally. Those two days of hating it/me really pulled a 180.

Couldn’t I just be a carry-on bag who every once in a while says some pretty FUCKING PROFOUND SHIT??? One who’s just so… ON THE FUCKING BALL sometimes. Who needs such little maintenance or responsibility … but whose payoff is so HUGE you almost feel bad there ISN’T any responsibility involved. Awesome, right? I knowwwww.


2 Responses to “Rawr?”

  1. Indeed. But why a carry-on and not a checked bag?

  2. “Ehhhh….gay.” = I laughed out loud.

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