I was reading Blankets and it filled my head with black holes and casual revelations. It made me wonder about living out other people's lives when my story got boring. Thats the thing about stories, no matter how many panels of seemingly meaning pauses there are, everything ultimately adds up to give you this feeling saying, 'I'd rather have had his memories.' or 'How come I never fell so viciously in love with someone.'
Enough, what I actually was thinking about was how past experiences twisted me into this down-to-earth mess that I am. I think if I hadn't been a social outcast or molested on the bus by some 16 year old fucker i'd proabably be the same way I was when I was in primary school - High-pitched, eager to please and a cum-sucker. Thats right I said it. I am actually thankful that a pedofile 3 years older than me pinched my ass. Thankful for the fuck weird racket that my dad made me and my sis play with. Thankful for my brother pining me down by the neck, punching me on the lip (though it wasn't on purpose) and being the tail-end of the family thats so brazen and out-spoken that I found out eventually that it was just easier to keep quiet than to put in my two cents worth. My mom scooting off to England, getting a stroke and coming back when I was preparing for O's. Hell, I mean i'm beginning to forget what she was like before. It just added to her soft-spoken strength I guess. I know. Thankful for Art, friends, companions, buddy's that you have unexplainable bonds with. Hot showers and warm sheets. Wet clothes, a gortex jacket and thoughts of you. Smokes, faggs lighters or whatever you call them. The list just goes on but i'd like to think that it's end with me being thankful for you who I fell in love with so unsurely and surely at the same time.
Sometimes I think I wished I could start over, but then I catch myself in those moments of escapism and just move on, hoping for something more to be thankful for.
Enough, what I actually was thinking about was how past experiences twisted me into this down-to-earth mess that I am. I think if I hadn't been a social outcast or molested on the bus by some 16 year old fucker i'd proabably be the same way I was when I was in primary school - High-pitched, eager to please and a cum-sucker. Thats right I said it. I am actually thankful that a pedofile 3 years older than me pinched my ass. Thankful for the fuck weird racket that my dad made me and my sis play with. Thankful for my brother pining me down by the neck, punching me on the lip (though it wasn't on purpose) and being the tail-end of the family thats so brazen and out-spoken that I found out eventually that it was just easier to keep quiet than to put in my two cents worth. My mom scooting off to England, getting a stroke and coming back when I was preparing for O's. Hell, I mean i'm beginning to forget what she was like before. It just added to her soft-spoken strength I guess. I know. Thankful for Art, friends, companions, buddy's that you have unexplainable bonds with. Hot showers and warm sheets. Wet clothes, a gortex jacket and thoughts of you. Smokes, faggs lighters or whatever you call them. The list just goes on but i'd like to think that it's end with me being thankful for you who I fell in love with so unsurely and surely at the same time.
Sometimes I think I wished I could start over, but then I catch myself in those moments of escapism and just move on, hoping for something more to be thankful for.
comically indifferent @ 2:32 AM