Sunday, September 17, 2006

I don't want to say anything cliche right now. I don't want to say anything predictable, or comfortable, or any shit like that. I want to raise your eye brows. I want you to really like me. I want you to finish this paragaph and wish that you could just call me up on the phone and talk to me right now. Or, I want you to just pass me off. I could handle being "too much" but that's it. I want either of those reactions. I don't want you to treat me like a source of entertainment. I have no desire to 'entertain' you, but I do want you to enjoy yourself. I want you to grow through me, and grow with me. And maybe one day, I will be that type of writer, or that type of teacher, or human being. But I have a lot of growing up to do myself.

Anyone who's reading this right now... I'm sorry, I can't help you! I'm no different from you, really. I mean, come on, am I? So it's absurd for me to be taking on this presumptious title of a 'writer' right now. It's all about my stupid fucking ego. I'm not forty something years old, maybe when I am that's when I'll make a disgusting impact. Not right now. I am exactly like you.

Fucking weird, right? So what are you doing reading this? Isn't there somebody out there you could learn something from? Call up an old teacher, talk to your parents, read a book by someone reflecting on this shit, because, right now, I have no right to write.

Still reading? Wow, you're really fucking stupid. This is the biggest waste of your time. Seriously, ANYTHING would be a better use of time then sitting here reading this. I mean, even maybe sitting in the bathroom for a while... that may be more enlightening than this. Lock yourself in a closet. I think that would be a much better use of your time. Maybe you'll come out a 'wise' fucking man. I have no idea what I'm talking about.

You just watched me space out. Writers do this a lot kiddies. Teachers try to convince you that you're at blame for not being able to process the information you read from a text at all time, do you ever think that maybe the writer spaces out just as much as you do? That maybe, it's not really your 'fault.' Of course not, teachers tell you the writer is God. He is incapable of screwing up because he's been anthologized. They tell you that he's a he. Oh no! Run away! She's being a feminist! This is bad.

All guys should be feminists and all girls should be feminist. It's totally fucking stupid not to be. Pre- conceived gender roles are the most disgusting inventions of man kind. How anybody doesn't want to regurgitate every time they see a Barbie or a GI Joe is totally beyond me.

It isn't done! Oh no. We need to reach a conclusion! Why? Why can't this just be over right now? Why do I need to say something which encorporates all the main ideas right now. Everything in life isn't a fucking essay!

Wow... I'm fucking insane.





Lets. not. fuck? with.... grammar! (that was the funniest thing I've ever come up with). Maybe it isn't really that funny though. Fuck! Self- deprication's a bitch. An annoying little Cho wow wow endlisly tearing pieces of flesh from your leg. Speaking morbidly is hilarious to me. Is anything really that big of a deal?

I'm not afraid of being nothing!

Fuck competition. I'll be nothing. Nothing sounds fine to me. I don't really want to strive anymore.

Why are you fucking reading this? Are you glaring with your critical little eye right now? Are you deciding whether or not you like this right now? Well fuck that! I hope you hate this. I hope this makes you want to bash your head against a wall.

I hope you love this. I hope at this point, you're so happy you read this. I hope I helped you sort through you're stupid little problems, because they're my stupid little problems. Is that the only reason your reading this? Do you have problems?

There's really something wrong with me. I feel guilty all the time.


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