and here it comes, the consequences of your actions.
imagine that…
still not your fault, though, eh? of course not.
Hide and Don’t Seek
I’m allowed to stay indoors and waste away the beautiful day. I’m no longer listening to a word you say. You’ve since turned into high-pitched screeching; falling onto silent ears. I’m deaf, I’m blind…you’re no longer here. We’re not one or two or three. I’m leaving you. I mean it this time.
I left three months ago.
Grand Marshal of the Jackass Parade
a.k.a. You’re the Reason No One Likes You
It’s interesting the thoughts that run through your head as you’re doing the dishes. None of the usual “I’m not your housekeeper” thoughts or “God forbid your rinse a friggin’ dish” thoughts… no, these are the other ones. The ones that sit in the back of your mind, waiting. The ones that creep up on you throughout the course of the day. The ones that pop into your head when something reminds you of a certain someone. A certain someone who just doesn’t get it.
You’re the grand martyr of Self-ville. The master of the fucking universe. Queen of the narcissistic victims. Perpetually crapped on and no one likes you. Everyone sucks. Everyone is ugly. So-and-so is an asshole; this person is fat. No one ever comes to see me; but I don’t go to see them. Everyone comes here. Fun is had by all. Goodbyes all around.
—Insert various shit-talking here—
Insert thinly-veiled bad-mouthing on various sources. Passive aggression is the name of the game and you’re the returning champion.
We go about our lives, without you. Not one thought. At least not until you storm in, riding the guilt-horse. There’re are reasons you’re not allowed around.
You’re the reason no one likes you.
Breezeway
What are we going to do? When the walls fall down and the roof caves in?
What are we going to do when the dust settles and the graves are dug?
Who’s going to live there and tend the sweet flowers?
What are we doing to do in the end? The wind is still blowing.
84 years…
It feels like all I do is wait. Wait on this, wait on that, him, her, it.
W A I T
Don’t leave though, you might miss them, even if they’re four days late and you have stuff to do.
Waiting and irritated; story of my life.
Fall Down, Go Boom
Messy mind, messy environment. Is that the saying? If not, it should be. Trying to get things back on track. The train derailed in the station, first of its kind. Damnedest thing.
New directions, new goals, new things to attempt to ignore. Pick back up on hobbies that brought you pleasure. Ignore what people say because god forbid we let people enjoy things.
This place needs more color.