I want everyone to miss me when i die
I want all the girls to dress inappropriately sexy at my funeral
And throw themseleves over my coffin, clawing at the box
Wouldn’t really work if i’m in an urn
I sometimes think about who would be most hurt, who would cry, and be sad, who would cry but feel fine afterwards
When heidi died dan was already over her, they’d broken up two years ago.
When an ex dies, it must just feel like the past is over, and like the past is a foriegn country and all that, you move on.
I want to die just so i dont have to write shitty poetry to keep on living
Walks down the street in 4-4 time
A ciggarette hanging out of the corner of her mouth at an angle i consider romantic
Looks like she is going somewhere but seems to be completely unconcerned by how long it takes her she
Turns heads and doesnt seem to notice that she does
Zoom. The world stops and a second later so does the car
Last week when I was teaching at a school a girl in my class was accused of perving on sir
She was teased about it
The sentence, errr you are perving on sir! Is a terrible sentence
Nothing nice about that sentence
I realise I am an old man
I realise I am a sir
I feel embarrassed and stare at where my shoes would be if they weren’t tucked under the chair
I still felt a bit flattered and I felt bad about that
I told my housemate who asked me if it was the fat girl
I said no
But it was totally the fat girl
I hope she meets a nice boy and doesn’t perve on casual teachers
I hope I don’t hear that sentence again
Obviously it works on a sort of continuum. But i often get the feeling that, even when its the things i say or do which land me where i end up, im just completely not in control of the outcome. I have no agency at all except to hurry or maybe delay the inevitable. Its totally fucked. And i know i have agency. I know i have control but its very limited and i never realise that i’d reached a crossroad until im halfway down the wrong path.
I never realise that im happy until its well and truly over. I never realise these things. I feel like im blindfolded. Such a shit metaphor but still.
Like i said before, i’m fully aware that i am the only one that can save me, but still it would be nice if someone else would save me. Help.
Just another saturday where i wake up and think, what the fuck am i doing?? X
Ok, actually worked it out. Sweet.
We are all in a box. We live, study, work in the box and unless we do something about it, we die in the box.
The box is surrounded by shit. The only way out of the box is to eat shit.
If you can eat shit, you’re fine. Sweet! You get out. You get the whatever is outside the box.
But you’re still a shiteater.
So everything i’ve ever learnt, has been telling me how to eat shit.