I’m not sure why I sit working it out….the science of fucking up with the signs of fucking up…

What triggers these self depreciating acts of madness and self inflicted blows …or should I say, full on knock outs…..

It’s like I’m hanging from the edge of a building and my body is dangling over a resident’s window, and the dude is an over grown 10 year old who watches way too much fucking ‘Batman Beyond’ and is tickling me…

And I’m yelling…’kid, for fuck’s sake quit it! go call a fucking ambulance…no, call your mummy…’…and he’s giggling his wee guts out ,”hahahaha, you said fucking! Eewww…don’t worry random suicidal stranger, why do we got super heroes like batman?”

No, you don’t have to find It remotely funny…

My humor is dwindling like the suicidal me..

And I’m unapologetic about my intentions…..i’m unapologetic and excessively silent….well the silence that I bind my mouth with through out the day is simple to ensure that when I meet HIM … I would have already, habitually been unable to mention anything….and when I can say nothing I can speak nothing of my intentions….. why do I have to permanently or semi-permanently or temporarily, shut my pie hole for HIS sake?

Because I love the dude, aight? And the dude’s the man…he’s fucking A…he’s pretty fucked up too….and has got shitloads on his plate….and I’m not going to the be the mofo who places the icing on the shit….aight?

I don’t say aight…in fact, I barely swear in normal conversation…

I find it unnecessary… and a replacement for the ‘lack of better words’….however, in times where emphasis is needed…when a verbal release is needed because punching a wall is not possible…

I should go…i really should go…..and find my way home….


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