MY house!
goodness it is almost as if I am old.
I have my very own can opener! I’ve got a toaster, a butter-dish, a 300-dollar antique sofa. I have air-conditioning & dishwashing soap & these overwhelming feelings of gratitude, guilt.
god this is a sore & sorrowful lot of emotions to endure! they are wholly devastating, crawling deep within my gut like catfish that squirm in the muck, burdened by their desperate longings for a dry & liberating shore.
I mean, one measly sofa = 300-dollars in retirement savings muddled away for some weasel of a daughter. it makes me want to take a cheese-grater to my throat, as Matt the californian would put it.
this is not to mention, the 50-thousand more that was invested in my rehabilitation, in the hopes that I would learn to LOVE life & eventually grow old.
clearly, the experience was utterly ineffective. oodles of cash & the very best of intentions apparently don’t change shit. what a bummer.
I am not worthy of their generosity, for the record. I am certainly not deserving of such caring, such blind love.
my parents, they are as sincere as the ocean is large & unnerving.
but me, I am as rotten as roadkill, as Jon Regal for stealing some poor kid’s bicycle.
it is a sorry story.
as for the dumb couch... it is to-die-for.
tre-cool, top-notch, let me tell you.
I have my very own can opener! I’ve got a toaster, a butter-dish, a 300-dollar antique sofa. I have air-conditioning & dishwashing soap & these overwhelming feelings of gratitude, guilt.
god this is a sore & sorrowful lot of emotions to endure! they are wholly devastating, crawling deep within my gut like catfish that squirm in the muck, burdened by their desperate longings for a dry & liberating shore.
I mean, one measly sofa = 300-dollars in retirement savings muddled away for some weasel of a daughter. it makes me want to take a cheese-grater to my throat, as Matt the californian would put it.
this is not to mention, the 50-thousand more that was invested in my rehabilitation, in the hopes that I would learn to LOVE life & eventually grow old.
clearly, the experience was utterly ineffective. oodles of cash & the very best of intentions apparently don’t change shit. what a bummer.
I am not worthy of their generosity, for the record. I am certainly not deserving of such caring, such blind love.
my parents, they are as sincere as the ocean is large & unnerving.
but me, I am as rotten as roadkill, as Jon Regal for stealing some poor kid’s bicycle.
it is a sorry story.
as for the dumb couch... it is to-die-for.
tre-cool, top-notch, let me tell you.