ejaculate, and disperse

It's like those art projects, with paper mache and balloons. Except that it doesn't feel as sticky. Maybe it does. At this point, I can't be sure.

Sick of this thing. It's not even a thing anymore. It's the thing.

I don't know why but every time I'm out with Ines there will be pictures of food involved. I insisted on arranging everything so that we wouldn't look like gluttons.
(which I was *coughs*)

After 20 minutes or so..

You can't see it but inside that plastic bag, there were 5 boxes of Rocky, and Ines courteously took home 2 of them because well, we couldn't finish it. And that little box with the brown stuff too. What's it called again?

I don't have a point but I just thought this poster was really funny, in a twisted way. At first glance, I thought it was some ad about those power drinks. You know, when thing's are down. Literally.

(click)

Arigato.

I don't know whether it's in my head or in my ears.

Let me be frank with you. I don't care what you want to do. Nobody cares what you want to do ok? You tell me you think about it all the time but what am I supposed to do with that? It's not like before. You've changed but don't worry, the amount of pity I have is still the same. Get it in your head.

That condescending look. Everybody does it. Everybody gets it. Every once in a while.
So what.

When they let the frivolities dictate. The second they were waiting in line.

Treatment is possible, always. Although they weren't sure what exactly it is to be treated. Was it their pain. Treatment was probably just an activity to pass the time. As long as the six on the third works, it'll be fine.

It wasn't explosive. But why would anyone want anything to be explosive. They would be insane.

Maybe it was. See the brain is a sneaky fellow.  

I live for mornings like this. Dark and gloomy. I feel at home.

It's just not my fucking problem. Don't dump it on me. This is straight from my heart.
I sincerely don't care.

I thought stupidity was a joke.

Although I don't like waiting, it's sort of thrilling. One day I'll be gone and then nobody can talk like they know me. Woohoo.

The one thing that's constantly positive is negativity.

I just don't know. Remorse is just very difficult.

Why?

Of course we know why. Obviously we do. We are not as dumb as they think and say. We just don't see the point in clarifying. If clarifying can make everything better then how do you clarify what happened when we tried to clarify to them what happened? Every day shit.

Glorious is when we let go and walk alone.

The damn headaches.

-Just something we do, ya know? We make fun.

-It's just 5 fucking minutes, to act as if you give a damn.

-You're nice but I don't want nice. There.

-It's one of those books. Simple pathetic shit.

-Two? Why now? Why two?

That’s it. The tip. The edge. The brink.
It’s not cloudy. But not exactly clear. Just enough clarity to get by.
Are we supposed to make use of the clarity.
Or simply acknowledge that it's there.
Questions without question marks are kind questions.

-No, not on this fucking bus.

The want is always constant so the battle is always on. The options are always open but people always don’t want to know. Knowing turns them away.

Here goes nothing.