Follow when you should be leading.
Give a gift without receiving.
Show frustration when it’s waning.
Hold expressions you’ve been feigning.
I want the world to fucking burn and die! lol
Are you okay? lol
I’m fine lol… But really I’m not lol
If you want to talk I’m just a phone call away lol
You can go to hell haha. i love you lol
Agh! Coffee tastes like crap when it’s lukewarm. I mean, that’s the most unattractive of temperatures, isn’t it? Not cold enough to be cold, and not warm or hot – it’s just, half-ass everything. Darlene should’ve delayed the timer on the pot. How am I supposed to walk now? I have to drink this lukewarm coffee, tie my lukewarm shoes, watch some lukewarm had-beens play a nearsighted game of chess, and wish I still had my lukewarm job. It’s getting cold now. It’s not even funny; it’s just cold. Everyone’s so busy busy busy all the time but doesn’t ever do anything. The cell phones, the TV, the internet just suck all their cold faces in. It’s suffocating. No chance to breath any warm air of the failing world around when all this busy-ness consumes our every breath. Our generation worked so hard to make the best for the next; and what to they do? Join the anti-social network and lock themselves in front of a screen until someone feeds them. I asked Darlene how many friends she had and she looked confused, like she didn’t understand, then she said, “Online, or like, for real?” Blasphemy! I mean, she doesn’t even know what world she’s in for Christ’s sake. I could probably convince her she was my uncle Steve and she’d believe me… So busy with nothing. It doesn’t seem right. What’s so good about busy anyways? It’s so hypocritical. Life’s so dramatic and stressful and, “I just want to relax on a tropical island,” but nothing is done to make progress. I think we just like routine. It’s so comfortable to eat the same breakfast, drive the same way to the same grocery store, greet the same neighbors, think the same way, dream the same way, breath the same way. But looking back; I can’t remember the last ten years of my life. Sure; stuff happened somewhere along the way, but it’s all just one memory for all those years. Just a dandy ol’ lukewarm time worth forgetting. I think I’m going to quit. Not my job; ‘cause obviously – well, you know, I need money. But I’ll quit striving for a warm fuzzy life. It’s just gets colder and stale anyways. I’m not going to watch those idiots play chess. I think I’ll start running everywhere; why not? Why not sing on a street corner and give loose change to anyone who gives me some. Why not climb a hill and roll all the way down? At least I’ll make a memory… I think I’ll start drinking tea – because God, this coffee is awful!
Out of the blue my grandmother gave me a McDonald’s gift card for $20 dollars. She said I was a good kid and should have it, but I didn’t do anything. Have you ever gotten something you know you aren’t supposed to have? Not in a guilty sense, like I shouldn’t have all these tweenage pop albums in iTunes, but legitimately having something that you know isn’t yours. I was walking in a mildly run down part of downtown when a man with a cane hobbled towards me, “You ain’t afraid to talk to a black man, are you?”
“No.” I crossed the street because the red hand turned into a little walking man.
“Let me catch up to you.”
“I’m just about to leave.” My car was 20 steps away. I never turned fully around to address him, but kept a safe distance even though I didn’t feel threatened. He stopped and then I stopped. His cane leg was swollen to three times its normal size. He had three dollars and an expensive disease. He was hungry. I said I didn’t have any money, but remembered the McDonald’s gift card. It’s better for me to not eat McDonald’s anyways. I gave it to him and drove home… I kind of want McDonald’s now.
When I was young my family owned one fifth of a boat, so every few weeks we’d take it out and go sailing for a half-day mini-vacation. We’d bring snacks and soda for refreshments, but I was only allowed to drink a soda if I helped out, in other words; earned it. Soda became the reward. I would sip it and relax because I knew I did my part, and it was vacation; at least that’s what I learned. At home I would do the yard work and have a soda, do my homework and have a soda, set the table and have a soda. I started having them more frequently so I stopped earning it, but it still felt like a little mini-vacation. I would sit down to work and then have a soda and not do anything because I already got the reward. I must have earned it. I forgot how to work hard and drank more soda, wondering why nothing ever got done.
Plant your bottom in a chair.
Watch it grow and stretch your pants.
Ponder; “this is not a drill.”
Launch a flare askance uphill.
You ever stumble across something really funny, awesome, true–or all of those–and then keep it to yourself?
Yeah.
…Oh.
Which Switch?
No, not that button.
Let me show you the view.
The ground seems awfully absent, doesn’t it?
Of course I’ll make it.
This gas is making me antsy—wanna smoke?
I can go faster than you.
Did you say fifty or fifteen minutes of oxygen?
Ouch.
Weeee!
This is all I need.
Huh?
We’ll be right back after this commercial break.
It’s not that sharp.
I said I’m sorry!
“They’re known for their teeth and unwillingness to release their bite.”
So shiny.
Just cut both wires.
It’ll only take a second.
I love you–
allmostrelevant 