Saturday, March 15, 2008

and the good days are like presents .........

kids form in groups. cliques, scenes, and perversions. The school patio littered with scabs and scars and walking S.T.D's. smokers smoke and whores whore. his father drinks - her father touches her at night. and i can't complain to much. semi-charmed, semi-hard, semi-smart. what I do is watch. what i do is write. broken streams of thought. a rainbow that isn't quite formed. the pre-cum dripping from cock that gets her pregnant. spider webs.
hot dogs and tater tots is what is served at lunch today. All the white kids drink chocolate milk and all the black kids drink white. Has anyone else but me noticed this?
I am more whore than punk rock, more glam than indie, more geek than jock, more dick than kind, more kind than nice, more pretty than handsome, more or less I am not noticed.
To be a senior is to be that much closer to escape. this asylum, this prison. It's like home. It is home, we all want to leave, and we never want back in.
things will be different out there, things will be much better.
this is what we wish for. Be careful what you wish for.

if someone had a knife or a gun or the metal detectors malfunctioned. If that loner kids back-pack were to be filled with C4, if he could pass fucking chemistry. instead dumb mother- fucker talks like he is a black rap star - urban ghetto set in this upper middle class no-where near a real city town. He says "yo yo yo".. calling to his homey's. No-one turns around.
I'd welcome chaos and destruction. something anything.

the zombies, the sheep, flesh on bones, hormones, kids dying to fuck and fight and be free but having no clue how. pent up, penthouse, spread, spread disease, hate, rumours...eating, laughing, faking, lying, grabbing each others flat asses.
That girl over there knows of bands you've never heard of. to skinny with stars on her wrist, wasting away with her face in a magazine. She knows a drummer in a band. She's fucked a drummer and I've fucked her. So I have fucked a drummer. Big deal.
have you googled her, have you seen her myspace?, have you gone over to her house on Friday nights? I have. have you seen my t-shirt over there? can you return my books, can you return my name, can we take it all back. can i teach you to hurt again. be good again.
Oh wait, it wasn't her. I say "fuck it" forgetting to use my inside voice. The girl looks up. I am certain I just as easily could fall in love with her. I tip my pen toward her and she glares at me. Yes. I could.

look- this kid just walked by me and called me a bad-name, I stare back at him shooting ninja stars into every part of his body. i understand his mother must love him. he may go off to fight in a bloody war for our country. be a hero of sorts. he may just as easily stay at home lying on a couch collecting disability checks from a fraudulent compensation claim. All in all, he is no better or worse than me, I am no better or worse than him. but there is only *one* of me. Of this I am certain. I smile to myself at this little *matter of factual* - and what's more... I smell to fucking good today. mmmmmm. The thing is this: I love a little to hard, and am a bit to crazy for most people to fuck with. I'll let you read me a like book of fiction.

my pen runs out of ink. I had a thought. now it's slipped away. has that ever happen to you?. The part where you look around and wonder how you got to this point. this moment. you try to figure out was it better a few hours ago, a few days, months, years. I am pretty content. I'd rather be dead than content. they quite possibly could be one in the same = equal. equal reminds me of math, reminds me there is only a few more months left at school, reminds me of prom dates, and all these stupid fuckers like me, trying to fit in. I realize i don't hate anyone and i hate that. I'm still mean but I feel so sorry for everyone around here, I just wish them happiness. No I am a piece of shit, I wish myself luck and charm and grace. I rather don't care what happens to the rest of them. Except maybe her.
Another glare, another day in ruins. Loving everyone, writing it down so that i won't forget, but I will. I do. Whoever finds this, don't waste your time. throw it out before you get to this point. Oh fuck. To late. You loser.

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