2+2=5=pure genius

There's something about yesterday. I can't quite pinpoint what it was. I used to think it was so funny when people like John Frusciante crumble under the pressure of being a bit more pop then they thought they were. I kinda get it now.

It's like selling your soul. Well, at least there's a chance to buy it back in fixed installments. Later maybe.

But that's just not it. There's more to it.

It's the taste of blood in my mouth, from my lungs and throat for being stupid. It's not just blood, it's mucus and saliva. And it's a retarded side effect.
It's also the fingernails I promised myself to not bite. They're all bit now. Fuck, I'm biting them everytime I stop writing. Bitch. *bite*

It's also the pain in my neck and back. From a year of sitting on a chair that's been broken for 2 years.

It's the music I promised myself not to play. And the people I knew would I should have been distant to. I should have just stuck to being batman, instead of sticking my Marxist thumbs into everyone else's lifepies. Blog knows I'm not good at the follow through.

I think EVERYONE I know knows I'm not good at follow throughs. I'm probably better than most at starting things, but then I just shuffle my feet and shrug and do something else.

If it's a joke, the punchline will kill, but after the laughter there's that stupid awkward silence.
If it's a game, after completing, there's a review in my head that comes out wrong when I type it out.(I still can't describe Company of Heroes after nearly 4 years)
If it's a theory or thought or blog post, I won't write it till I'm bored, and after I do, I'm very bad at replying comments or expressing my joy whenever I see new comments in the cbox.
If it's a tank, it'll take about 2 days for 90% of the work to be done and then 2 months for the rest of the 10%.

It's NOT laziness. It's NOT procrastination. I know what I'm good at and WHEN I'm good at. There has to be some degree of interest, only then do I permit myself to do something. It's silly, I know. And it doesn't work. Goddamit.Goddamit, I think being reduced to blogging about one's self is the worst kind of punishment. I hope that someday I'll leave this stupid karmic blogging circle to join the Gods of blogging who can write meterlong posts about everything but themselves. I yearn to crucify the ego.

It's guilt, it's the burden of responsibility, it's the result of being spaced out for a year, then caged in. And being unable to express a thing to even the closest of friends.


In short,For a person with enough sense to know the repercussions of little things, I'm pretty fucking STUPID.


Hey look, Facebook without its skin:

Goddamit, worst post ever.