Tuesday, February 07, 2006

I wrote myself another note today. Yay!

Hello again Derek,

I'm glad I don't have arthritis or writing these stupid, pointless notes to myself would suck. I'm such a lazy-ass and work is going to suck tonight. I still feel shitty. Just like shit probably feels shitty. I'm having a hard time paying attention, even though I want to because I know I have to. Who cares? NO ONE just like always.

I can't wait until college. I'm going to be on Girls Gone Wild showing off my ta-ta's and yelling "wooooo!" while I'm on spring break in some remote Latin American party place. I'll be going on blind dates on MTV in hopes of finding a one night stand. Or one that lasts 'til spring break is over. Then I'll return home to a life of solitude because there's no one for me because I'm no one's kind. Then when I get out of college I'll live on the side of a mountain in a log cabin with a dog or two. Then I'll wake up every morning to see my failure and I'll grow a big-ass beard, just out of spite. Then I'll hide out in the woods until boy/girl scouts come to spend the night "roughing it" in their bastardly little tents. Once they're all asleep I'll use my ugliness and scare them all away so that I can eat their marshmallows and cookies all for myself. Unless the cookies have coconut in them, in which case I'll promptly vomit and shout obscenities. Then eventually I'll die and there will be no one left to feed my dogs so they'll eat me and get sick from it. Then they'll die too and I'll cry in the afterlife. Wow, my future sounds pretty shitty. Good thing there are no such things as psychics huh? ROFLMAO!!!!

I hate when people claim to have knowledge of the future. Which brings me to astrology: fuck it. Making predictions is one thing; using your bullshit mystical propaganda to give people false ideas about their destiny is another. That's what horoscopes and tarot cards and the like do. There is no future until you get there and the present is past.

Unicorns are fake too. But that's okay 'cuz only kids believe in unicorns and they don't count.

"One for the thumb!" is the slogan I keep hearing about the Steelers' fifth Super Bowl win. For those of you who are not sure, the slogan means that the Steelers now have a fifth Super Bowl ring and, thus, have one to put on their thumb. I think the slogan should apply differently. It should stand for the one Super Bowl ring to go on the thumbs of the referees- since they had their heads up their asses the entire game. Oh well, I'm still black.

I hate writing myself notes. It hurts my hand after a while, so I'm done.

Still sadly yours,
-Derek

2 comments:

Richard said...

Derek, what is it like going insane while everyone pretends to be happy around you while they stumble through high school? What is it like seeing that big yawning mouth of the future just waiting to swallow you up into pathetic obscurity as soon as you step down the platform after receiving your diploma? Time is ticking away, school isn't forever, and Death is the most patient bastard of them all.

Richard said...

The human condition is inherit claustraphobia. Compression of my space made complete. I would rip out my own entrails by hand just to be alone. Inanity rolls total through this sphere. Ostracized for clarity of vision. A dream unrealized of solitude that I should descend into autonomy and know the pain of fellowship no more. I feel nothing but a lack of space. Paradox of socialization results in duress. Rife with hostility, what has caused me so much hate? Humanity. Exterminate with extreme prejudice.