Burnin' in Smyrna
There was this kind of song thing that I came up with in the angsty torrents of my fifteenth year of life and basically it was just me spelling out "I h-a-t-e b-e-i-n-g a-l-i-v-e" to the beat of the part of bingo ("there was a farmer had a dog...") where you spell out bingo's name ("b-i-n-g-o..."). Totally been singing that song a little bit lately.
But there are good things. Winston. Beach. Books. Whole hours of the day in which I get to remove myself from the presence of people and forget every stupid problem I have by focusing on Harry Potter or building a sand castle or blowing smoke rings. Taking bike rides. Cleaning my parent's house. Playing fetch with Molly. And there are decent enough social ventures; catching up with old Smyrnan friends over beers and weed; attending the traditional Meador-Robinson Family Sunday Dinner; taking Marz to my ocean; telling Morgan bad advice; protecting Brittany from our parent's wrath; Winston.
See how I used an inappropriate grammatical mechanism to split up segments in the beginning of the paragraph than switched to the appropriate one without correcting the first ones? That's grammatical irony... no really it's just a contradiction, right? as there is nothing comical or truthful gained. Not that irony necessarily involves either. But good irony, in my book, does. My book sucks though.
I would like to impale my book. I feel stupid unhappy. Almost like I''ve been through a serious break-up with Winston, which is funny, because hanging out with him has been the only surefire- however temporary- cure for the gaping hole in my chest. Does that sound melodramatic? And on top of everything else I'm a drama queen. WOOT.
I would very much like to scream until I can't think anymore. thinking is very upsetting
But there are good things. Winston. Beach. Books. Whole hours of the day in which I get to remove myself from the presence of people and forget every stupid problem I have by focusing on Harry Potter or building a sand castle or blowing smoke rings. Taking bike rides. Cleaning my parent's house. Playing fetch with Molly. And there are decent enough social ventures; catching up with old Smyrnan friends over beers and weed; attending the traditional Meador-Robinson Family Sunday Dinner; taking Marz to my ocean; telling Morgan bad advice; protecting Brittany from our parent's wrath; Winston.
See how I used an inappropriate grammatical mechanism to split up segments in the beginning of the paragraph than switched to the appropriate one without correcting the first ones? That's grammatical irony... no really it's just a contradiction, right? as there is nothing comical or truthful gained. Not that irony necessarily involves either. But good irony, in my book, does. My book sucks though.
I would like to impale my book. I feel stupid unhappy. Almost like I''ve been through a serious break-up with Winston, which is funny, because hanging out with him has been the only surefire- however temporary- cure for the gaping hole in my chest. Does that sound melodramatic? And on top of everything else I'm a drama queen. WOOT.
I would very much like to scream until I can't think anymore. thinking is very upsetting