I try to do something nice, it blows up. I try to make a new friend, and it turns out I don’t want them. I try to keep old friends, and shit hits that fan. I try to fall in love, and…
there’s just no point. There’s no point. When one of us falls in, the other falls out. Regardless of who, why or where. Terribly consistent, disquietingly unrequieted.
G. said the other day (and I paraphrase) that commas can surely mislead one into believing that they are reading something poetic, when really the sentence structure is just as empty as the words.
I walked to work today with my pathetic excuse for an umbrella. It would flip up and I’d face into the wind. It would flip down and splash me with all the water that collected in it during its time flipped up. Do I need to suggest that this might be a metaphor for life? I think not, though I just did, of course. I stole the shitty umbrella from worst temp job ever. More of a curse then a blessing, both the job and the umbrella. I’m still shivering.
Who reads blogs, anyway?
I installed an invisible tracker in this thing – I didn’t think anyone even had the address. It got 16 unique hits yesterday. Apparently, some poor bloke in Missouri spent two hours and seven minutes on it. I do hope s/he enjoyed himself. Those are two hours and seven minutes that s/he’ll never get back. Blogs are the perfect avenue for sucking away other people’s time. If only other peoples’ time gave me super powers.
My mother was laughing hysterically at dinner last night, and uncharacteristically delving into philosophical questions. I drank my wine and retreated to my room to pack my childhood into boxes, getting rid of as much of it as I can. I’m glad they’re getting divorced.
I spend my time daydreaming of a magic BART ticket. It would never make the turnstyle blink SEE AGENT, and it would always have $17.80 on it. No matter how many times I used it, always $17.80. I’d save so much money, and time. And the convenience! Oh it’s almost overwhelming.
But, then, what if I lost it?!
“G. said the other day (and I paraphrase) that commas can surely mislead one into believing that they are reading something poetic, when really the sentence structure is just as empty as the words.”
Love it!
You certainly were more angsty back in ’05. Way to cheer up with age.