I get mixed with women I don't deserve, they like to hurt my pride, while I work their nerves.
It's finally happend, enough to finally push me to the edge that I needed to hit to trigger my brain to say fuck this childish shit and actually do something.
The course of events leading up to this are long and detailed, beautiful, gritty, dirty and mostly internal. I am ready to abandon it all. The safe home, the familiar faces, the manufactured consensus, the routines that come to be expectant to.
The person I imagined myself as is the person I have to become.
The problem has finally hit me, and only now I know what's up, I'm tired of the life, the life of doing anything else other than exactly what you might like to be doing at any moment.
The drama, the fights, the pleasantries, the acquiantances, the shit talking meth heads, the constant mean mugging old people, the college kids, the fucking rednecks, the traffic lights, the cars, the houses, the roads, the refrigerator, the friends, the familiy, holidays, miles, miligrams of nicotine, the traditions. it is all going to kiss my ass goodbye.
This last day, and this last cigarette of this pack will be the turning of my life..
Will is heading into the Navy, and Blake is thinking about joining him, Cookie is off doing his own thing, and I guess it's time for me to grow the fuck up too.
From here on out it's nothing but me living the fucking life I always dreamed of, and I'm hitting up Amsterdam, I'm going to the Phillipines, all over Europe, and I'm going to have something in this shithole, more than just the material possessions that drive me, I just want something to alteast call my own completely for a fucking change.
I already have the job that can offer it to me, I just actually have to do something with it, and put my mind to this shit, and I got this.
Finally be able to give every single person that has ever doubted me the biggest fuck you ever.
Show my dads that I'm not as ignorant as he thinks, prove to my moms that I'm not just another pothead druggie, just out to steal a purse for a quick dimebag, To actually do something positive for Kyle, and even get my dog back, and give her a hellacious front yard to run in, fly over Michigan and Toronto, Ontario both screaming nothing but vulgar obscenities to the ones that I made the mistake of putting my time into.
It still amazes me how many times I hear myself thinking "I wish I could do what that guy was doing" and then go back to the same fucking shit I always end up doing, the goddamn routine. I will never again subject myself to that kind of mistake.
The fuck yous will be given when I cross paths with those again, and the debts of what I owe to any person that has ever helped me will be paid back tenfold.
Here I go.