(no subject)
You recieve two phone calls that create stairs to an uninvited epiphany. The first phone call is accusations. The second phone call is victimized. Then, you feel an autonomous construction. That is, there is a mounting tension that you have no control over. You try to sleep it off, but a cockroach lands on your face. You try to think about it, but you aren't real. The only thing you can possibly think about is $165.43 and some stupid song you wish you woke up with.
The fact of the matter is that you are worthless. Really. You pick up on the social blunder of revelations and reverse it for who knows why... You like to feel like you're the outcast? You don't really know. The point is that there comes a time (and you know this all too well now) when everyone, or maybe not everyone, has to ask themselves, "Is anybody fucking there?"
I'm the biggest fuck-up alive.
The fact of the matter is that you are worthless. Really. You pick up on the social blunder of revelations and reverse it for who knows why... You like to feel like you're the outcast? You don't really know. The point is that there comes a time (and you know this all too well now) when everyone, or maybe not everyone, has to ask themselves, "Is anybody fucking there?"
I'm the biggest fuck-up alive.