Chili
I don’t want to write and I force myself to write and I hope that when I’m done it feels nice. As I write, I am in the bar at the university and the place is shaking and the people around are drunk and I fucking hate them and they’re trying to impress each other and talk about girls like they are pieces of shit. Soon I will be eating chili with people who I like and they will ask me questions and I will ask some back and maybe we will try and impress each other by seeing who can eat the hottest chili and it’ll burn at first but when it sinks down it feels good and I think I will drink milk.
I saw a girl and she makes my heart race and I would step in the way if someone was firing an uzi at her. If she got hit by an uzi when i wasn’t there and survived, she would still be the most beautiful thing this fuck-up has ever seen. She is every colour. She is a spectrum. She is number one at everything in the world apart from conforming and she makes me happy when I think of her right now instead of this bar that shakes.
I like my friends, they have big pumping hearts and some of them don’t take care of their hearts. One friend told me that he thinks I have the coolest friends like he couldn’t believe it and I agree with the bullshit he spouts. I want to see you, you, and you, again, again and again but that girl is the one that’s most of all in my big pumping heart that will start racing like Senna when I shovel up some chili and send it down.
This bar shakes and I don’t want to shake with it. Not this time: there is no urge to fight. I have a light strapped to my head to light the way from tonight and on and I follow that now. I follow that. The people in the bar cannot step into my light, they can live in the dark and I can shut them out. I don’t want to light the way for anyone else, but only if they want to and we can walk together, not one person in front of the other. The people in the bar are not really together, they pretend to be by trying to impress each other after a beer again, again and one more time.
I was in a bed in a house yesterday and a the guy said to the girl lots of things in the next room. The guy and the girl thought noone else was in the house so they started to say lots of things from their big thumping hearts when they sat at the table after chopping up vegetables. I think they were vegetables because carrots are loud to chop and that’s why I don’t really chop them. I dip them in a sauce - example: guacamole - and take a big chomp and they taste good. I heard the guy say that he wants to be better friends with me and it felt good and I left the house quietly and I felt good and I also do now and I’m finished with this because they’ll have cooked the chili soon.
I saw a girl and she makes my heart race and I would step in the way if someone was firing an uzi at her. If she got hit by an uzi when i wasn’t there and survived, she would still be the most beautiful thing this fuck-up has ever seen. She is every colour. She is a spectrum. She is number one at everything in the world apart from conforming and she makes me happy when I think of her right now instead of this bar that shakes.
I like my friends, they have big pumping hearts and some of them don’t take care of their hearts. One friend told me that he thinks I have the coolest friends like he couldn’t believe it and I agree with the bullshit he spouts. I want to see you, you, and you, again, again and again but that girl is the one that’s most of all in my big pumping heart that will start racing like Senna when I shovel up some chili and send it down.
This bar shakes and I don’t want to shake with it. Not this time: there is no urge to fight. I have a light strapped to my head to light the way from tonight and on and I follow that now. I follow that. The people in the bar cannot step into my light, they can live in the dark and I can shut them out. I don’t want to light the way for anyone else, but only if they want to and we can walk together, not one person in front of the other. The people in the bar are not really together, they pretend to be by trying to impress each other after a beer again, again and one more time.
I was in a bed in a house yesterday and a the guy said to the girl lots of things in the next room. The guy and the girl thought noone else was in the house so they started to say lots of things from their big thumping hearts when they sat at the table after chopping up vegetables. I think they were vegetables because carrots are loud to chop and that’s why I don’t really chop them. I dip them in a sauce - example: guacamole - and take a big chomp and they taste good. I heard the guy say that he wants to be better friends with me and it felt good and I left the house quietly and I felt good and I also do now and I’m finished with this because they’ll have cooked the chili soon.