SUCKY. There it is. There’s just no other word for it. For example; you sit down on a park bench, and you’re just, just simply trying to LIVE YOUR LIFE, and someone throws something (or, attempts) to throw something, at the trash bin thingy next to you; but, does it make it to the trash bin thingy? Of course not! Because they suck, and because of said unfortunate suckishly-sucky circumstance, it hits your face instead. Fun? No. But people laugh, so I mean, I GUESS. OR! OR…. how about, when you look up something on Google, something you can’t get off your mind, and then something else, completely nonadjacent to the topic at hand, and this, this new thing, these bull shity, sucky things, come up, and you’re thinking to yourself: “Why would this have anything to do with what I typed in? What a crackhead you are, Google.”; but you’re still gunna read them because well, hey, they look rather interesting, and you’re a noob, what else is new? ANYWAY, so you read the jaunt, and then, you’re just mad. Your blood is like hot coal. You’re afraid to pet your dog right now, cause you feel like you might burn him; Its okay, that can happen sometimes. But the suckiest thing of all has to be regret. There’s nothing worst. Whether you’re sitting on your park bench, or vigorously petting your dog, that regret will be there. It follows you, everywhere you go; it’s with you, with everything you do. You just can’t escape it. Welll, maybe you can, but I’ve yet to find a means of doing so, permanently. So for now, I guess it’s just cleaning and music. Hey, I ain’t complainin’ - better some peace than no peace at all…… I’m gunna go ahead, and uhhh, attack my bathroom with bleach and blast music from a variety of musicals; CATCH YA ON THE FLIP SIDEEEE.
Pont de Brooklyn-New York (by johnjohn1974)
Oh, Nueva York.
How I miss thee and thy corner stores and dollar italian ices.
I bet you they’re like 3 bucks now.
I hate money.
Tell me why…
that looks like the train track in Olde Town by Java.
WAIT I LIED.
Not by Java…
by Michaels.
Dey you go.
to watch more tv. But, like, not like ‘scrollin’-through-the-guide-on-comcast-while-sitting-side-ways-in-your-recliner-and-eating-lays-baked-cheetos’ kind of tv watching. Not the ‘I’m-in-the-living-room-alone-on-the-computer-so-lemme-turn-the-tv-on-cause-it’s-super-quite-and-i-don’t-have-any-speakers’ tv watching either; I’m talkin’ watchin’ a series - a whole new series, and I watch it from beginning to end, and then watching the season marathon at the end of the run and being just as excited about it as I was from the start. I’ve noticed, ever since I started my ‘recliner-cheeto-scared-of-silence’ tv watchin, I’ve just let go of being excited about things; maybe it wasn’t me not watching tv - definitely wasn’t actually, but now a days, i just don’t care about, well, pretty much anything. I mean, I care about Kosta - I love Kosta. I care about him so much. But I mean, I just don’t hope a lot lately. I lied, I do hope. In fact probably more than anyone I know. But I’ve suppressed them, for the simple fact that I don’t believe they’ll come true. So, I vow, to watch a new, interesting, heart wrenching, heart stopping series on television very soon, so that I may hope for a better day for every Tom, Dick, Harry, and Harry’s mom that’s on tv now-a-days, worrying about God knows what; a series that’ll pull me in just as hard as they pull stunts, whether it be with their wits, their movement, their words, or their voices. And I promise to stay with it, all the way, until there’s nothing left, so that when I am old, and my dreams have yet to come true, I can be in my office at the temp agency I work for and say ” Oh yeah! I remember that show! The first season was great, but then it was shitty by the third one”.
-Awa Sal Secka
1:47 am, E.S.T.
