(no subject)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
first off, fuck dragonball z. you look at some positive role models, these fuckers are rock solid. something wrong with the world? someone picking on you? hey, why dont you just start screaming until your steroids kick in and then just completely flip out and destroy everything in a ten mile radius. horseshit. i tried that, and all that happened was my fucking throat hurt, and i was left just standing there like an assclown at my normal 160lbs of scrawny ass white trash with my murderous rage not subsided at all. what they should have, is have someone deal with their problems in a more realistic way, like have goku start screaming, and then get plastered and beat his kids until all of his friends throw him out into the street, where he goes off and has rough sex with a prostitute and then crashes his car into the side of his garage.
fuck perspective. yeah, fuck it. im wrong all the time, and i realize that im wrong about halfway through, and fuck you for pointing it out, i aint changing for shit. deal. i realize that i am half decent at eighty different things and for each one of them, i am immediate friends with five people who make me look like a complete fucking hack without trying. take a step back and observe your own mediocrity. how bout i just take a step back, take some yoga, and boot myself in the mouth. i am one minute closer to whatever freak accident is going to end my meadering, directionless life right about every sixty seconds that i am thinking about what i should be doing that im not, so fuck that. instead, i should focus on the immediate, like figuring out how i keep ending up hurting the people that i care about when that is the one thing in my life that i try as hard as i fucking can to prevent myself from ever doing. this is you living up to your potential and failing. try harder. try again. it'll hurt less and less until you just give up and become one of those people who wont talk to your friends after their parents die because the kids three doors down got a keg. if you can see anyone other than yourself, your walls must not be high enough. fuck that shit. i hate mirrors anyway. i hate people. all of those little puppies that whine at you at the pound, yeah, at least they didnt see it coming. i do. you do. the wave of consequences looming over your city makes it hard to focus on your job, or your homework, or your shitty relationship problems, even when you're not in one.
the sad thing is, this is totally not who i am these days. i am happy like 95% of the time, have a sick job, meet chill and intriguing people, climb fours a day, get enough cash to support my kids that need it, go on adventures, and i'm just generally doing good enough that i usually fall asleep smiling. i guess i just hate failure, so when it happens, i sort of resort to the wisps of the dissapated ambiguously directed sociatal angst and hatred that pretty much defined me for the first part of high school, back in the seventies when i was your age. or maybe ive just read fight club too many times. either way, this sort of omniventing does kind of work. and i am better at something than anyone else i know at something - nunchucks. and probably adding, the archaic dead language of mathematics, which is right up there as being as useful as being fluent in latin. or for you mudders, klingon (OOOOHHHHHH). so yeah, sorry all, im better now, and the next post is pretty much guaranteed to be funnier. ill be sure to utilize phrases like "dripping walrus snatch" or "crabtastic", which would both be extremely good email addresses. lastly, i dont know how to change anything on my account, aka add friends, change my picture, or do anything else, so dont get offended, i just have like three cases of down syndrome that i have to overcome before i figure out how to use websites that are designed so that a five year old can easily customize it. i would also like to thank you for letting me vent, because there is something about laying shit out to people that even the wettest, sloppiest walrus snatch cant compare to, and that something is clearly aesthetic value, because damn is that an ugly visual.
first off, fuck dragonball z. you look at some positive role models, these fuckers are rock solid. something wrong with the world? someone picking on you? hey, why dont you just start screaming until your steroids kick in and then just completely flip out and destroy everything in a ten mile radius. horseshit. i tried that, and all that happened was my fucking throat hurt, and i was left just standing there like an assclown at my normal 160lbs of scrawny ass white trash with my murderous rage not subsided at all. what they should have, is have someone deal with their problems in a more realistic way, like have goku start screaming, and then get plastered and beat his kids until all of his friends throw him out into the street, where he goes off and has rough sex with a prostitute and then crashes his car into the side of his garage.
fuck perspective. yeah, fuck it. im wrong all the time, and i realize that im wrong about halfway through, and fuck you for pointing it out, i aint changing for shit. deal. i realize that i am half decent at eighty different things and for each one of them, i am immediate friends with five people who make me look like a complete fucking hack without trying. take a step back and observe your own mediocrity. how bout i just take a step back, take some yoga, and boot myself in the mouth. i am one minute closer to whatever freak accident is going to end my meadering, directionless life right about every sixty seconds that i am thinking about what i should be doing that im not, so fuck that. instead, i should focus on the immediate, like figuring out how i keep ending up hurting the people that i care about when that is the one thing in my life that i try as hard as i fucking can to prevent myself from ever doing. this is you living up to your potential and failing. try harder. try again. it'll hurt less and less until you just give up and become one of those people who wont talk to your friends after their parents die because the kids three doors down got a keg. if you can see anyone other than yourself, your walls must not be high enough. fuck that shit. i hate mirrors anyway. i hate people. all of those little puppies that whine at you at the pound, yeah, at least they didnt see it coming. i do. you do. the wave of consequences looming over your city makes it hard to focus on your job, or your homework, or your shitty relationship problems, even when you're not in one.
the sad thing is, this is totally not who i am these days. i am happy like 95% of the time, have a sick job, meet chill and intriguing people, climb fours a day, get enough cash to support my kids that need it, go on adventures, and i'm just generally doing good enough that i usually fall asleep smiling. i guess i just hate failure, so when it happens, i sort of resort to the wisps of the dissapated ambiguously directed sociatal angst and hatred that pretty much defined me for the first part of high school, back in the seventies when i was your age. or maybe ive just read fight club too many times. either way, this sort of omniventing does kind of work. and i am better at something than anyone else i know at something - nunchucks. and probably adding, the archaic dead language of mathematics, which is right up there as being as useful as being fluent in latin. or for you mudders, klingon (OOOOHHHHHH). so yeah, sorry all, im better now, and the next post is pretty much guaranteed to be funnier. ill be sure to utilize phrases like "dripping walrus snatch" or "crabtastic", which would both be extremely good email addresses. lastly, i dont know how to change anything on my account, aka add friends, change my picture, or do anything else, so dont get offended, i just have like three cases of down syndrome that i have to overcome before i figure out how to use websites that are designed so that a five year old can easily customize it. i would also like to thank you for letting me vent, because there is something about laying shit out to people that even the wettest, sloppiest walrus snatch cant compare to, and that something is clearly aesthetic value, because damn is that an ugly visual.