Dear Friend: I hate you (an evaluation)

but how can i really be upset with you when i continually seem so intent on disappointing myself?

The last thirty-some hours have been interesting. Last, least, lost my housing arrangement. I cannot even find shelter for myself.

Seriously, Jonathan? You must have missed the first week of class, because this one is pretty basic. And you seem shaky on the others -

Water. Got it. Fairly simple commodity nowadays, what with the waterways. Congratulations on choosing the right origin.

Food. You've struggled with this one before, but you seem to have gotten the feel for foraging.

Sleep. Also an area in which you've had trouble. It did not seem so essential in the younger age (remember when you didn't sleep for days?) but now you have had to drive yourself so hard to catch up with all these other essentials that it has effectively forced itself on you. But of course the comfort element is contingent upon...

SHELTER, motherfucker. There are invertebrates with hardly a nervous system to speak of that do this better than you.

Stop depending on other people, because they do not depend on you.
They are always going to get theirs, so grow the fuck up and get yours too.

I seem to be born under a bad sign, and not even in the bad-ass sort of way, just in the way my life is given to periodic full-on fallout collapse.

A nearby group of rope-jumping schoolchildren had this to say on the subject:

"Teacher, teacher
there's a creature
living under
the rusty bleacher!

a boy was sent
to go explore
but in he went
and was seen no more!"


Sorry about the negativity, everyone. But he has to learn.

I try to be positive. And usually it is successful. Because if it wasn't I would certainly be riding down a river called wrist on a raft called razor. it flows into "Come Sail Away" blaring over the speakers and then into (and thus completing a) melancholy melodrama montage.

You're cute. Stay the fuck away from my boat. You have too much to swim for. And I can no longer navigate this metaphor.

My room is the filthiest it has been in a long time. I planned on cleaning when my life let up after the semester was finished. But then it never let up. And you know, it doesn't seem like it is going to ever again. It seems that this storm has slowly turned into the new moderate climate.

The conditions are poor, but fairly consistent
not at all temp'rate, but all too persistent
The sky has turned red, but I am resistant

That was stupid.

Take a hint, lost boy. There's no such thing as Captain Hook anymore, you're just fencing yourself. In. Because if you don't build the fence, someone else will. Apparently there has to be borders.

The nations we see are those we define
by the contents contained on one side of the line
we put our trust in those things that confine
so you stick to yours and I'll stay in mine
for conflicts occur when these two combine.

...and ne'er the 'twixt shall exist.

tangent?


If i had a brain to work with i would tell you something about socks. and how they get worn in and comfortable. and then how they get worn out. or how they get lost somewhere between the washer and dryer, or the dryer and my drawer, or the drawer and my feet, and around again. either way they all eventually disappear and i have to get new ones. i've dwelt upon these socks too long. maybe they didn't like how i wore them or folded them together. But in any case, they're gone.

And in the mind of some pretentious asshole this makes sense as somehow representative of his relationships with people.

Speaking of which, I have to do laundry. So, to wrap it up, it seems this whole post has been about growing up. Ew. Second star to the right, and straight on til morning. Which is when I need to have this laundry done by. Otherwise I will be forced to wear my green tights and fairy dust. And there is not an ant in my pants nor a pie in the sky that is cool with that. To reiterate - that is cool with that.

It's a sine.



And thus we say goodbye to neverland.
Fuck your self and mine.