Flash Forward
Imagine me, 7th month into the future from my last post. Life certainly has changed.
No longer do I awake thinking how wonderful it is to be alive, now I merely wonder what kind of mood I will be in that day. I usually try to anticipate the kind of interactions in my early waking hours that will set me off in a bad mood. These are events such as Earline at the Common Grounds cart being a total bitch to me and giving me only 3/4 of the skim mocha I paid for when she should know that I need all 4/4 of that skim mocha to help me function, or if some colossal skag bitchs me out on the bus for "being in the way." These are the things that tip me over the edge from my usual placid pleasantness into my get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way-before-I-put-little-paper-cuts-all-over-your-body-and-then-roll-you-down-a-sandy-beach kind of mood.
Oh, for the days of ignorant happiness to be upon me once again.
It is weird to come out of a very dark and scary place in your life. Happy, yes, to be out of it, but likewise unsure of how to act after having grown up so much. I fear that I am this shell of a person. That I'm so empty with nothingness inside. Sure I have a personality, and yes I still have that Joshua Demaree wit they all rave about. But I just fear that I have this lack of substance... this emptiness inside my idea of self that I have no idea what to fill it with. Maybe I could fill it with marshmallow fluff, that way if I ever happen to be cracked open in some horrific accident, all the frightened onlookers will have some sugary sweetness to quell their anxious minds until they forget the memories of my death. Maybe I am Marshmallowfluffhead and will have a film made about me.
I wonder if I would die horrifically, and CNN and Fox News would pick up the story, I wonder if they would read this and quote from this to provide the national public at large of my life and intricacies. They would show my neighbor Melba saying, "He was such a lovely boy. He always loved my magic tricks" as they scrawled my quote "I should be filled with marshmallow fluff" beneath her. Oh Melba, oh CNN, oh Fox News.
Well, I am finding it hard to focus my eyes anymore. I feel as though I should crawl into the infinite comfiness of my bed (which to me is an ineffable manifestation of God or some higher power) ad forget my worries and woes. Tomorrow is another day and maybe Earline won't be so mean.
No longer do I awake thinking how wonderful it is to be alive, now I merely wonder what kind of mood I will be in that day. I usually try to anticipate the kind of interactions in my early waking hours that will set me off in a bad mood. These are events such as Earline at the Common Grounds cart being a total bitch to me and giving me only 3/4 of the skim mocha I paid for when she should know that I need all 4/4 of that skim mocha to help me function, or if some colossal skag bitchs me out on the bus for "being in the way." These are the things that tip me over the edge from my usual placid pleasantness into my get-the-fuck-out-of-my-way-before-I-put-little-paper-cuts-all-over-your-body-and-then-roll-you-down-a-sandy-beach kind of mood.
Oh, for the days of ignorant happiness to be upon me once again.
It is weird to come out of a very dark and scary place in your life. Happy, yes, to be out of it, but likewise unsure of how to act after having grown up so much. I fear that I am this shell of a person. That I'm so empty with nothingness inside. Sure I have a personality, and yes I still have that Joshua Demaree wit they all rave about. But I just fear that I have this lack of substance... this emptiness inside my idea of self that I have no idea what to fill it with. Maybe I could fill it with marshmallow fluff, that way if I ever happen to be cracked open in some horrific accident, all the frightened onlookers will have some sugary sweetness to quell their anxious minds until they forget the memories of my death. Maybe I am Marshmallowfluffhead and will have a film made about me.
I wonder if I would die horrifically, and CNN and Fox News would pick up the story, I wonder if they would read this and quote from this to provide the national public at large of my life and intricacies. They would show my neighbor Melba saying, "He was such a lovely boy. He always loved my magic tricks" as they scrawled my quote "I should be filled with marshmallow fluff" beneath her. Oh Melba, oh CNN, oh Fox News.
Well, I am finding it hard to focus my eyes anymore. I feel as though I should crawl into the infinite comfiness of my bed (which to me is an ineffable manifestation of God or some higher power) ad forget my worries and woes. Tomorrow is another day and maybe Earline won't be so mean.