Cartoons...Yes...Cartoons
Right. I know that someone somewhere got my piece of the pie. My heart beats irregularly and yearns for her arrival. I have a feeling he wouldn’t be caught dead underneath this sky. I’m standing all alone. I will never be famous. My eyes see blurredly through wind-induced tears. I will never have kids. I watch trash swirl in the wind. I will never remember half the shit I have done in my life. I smell the subterranean perfume. The lands have been discovered and the seas have been charted. The smell overpowers the carcass stench from the alley. I will never strike fear into a woman's heart when I pull out the goods. I listen to the wind howl. I will never create anything of any value to anyone. It muffles the inebriated laughter coming from the seedy basement bar. I do not believe in Karma. The coffee I drink has no taste. I believe in burning you alive. My mouth is filled with the shit taste steaming in the sewers under the street.I will never do what I want with my life. The flashing neon lights illuminate my silhouette in three-second intervals. I will never have fun again. I'm standing all alone. I will never look wildly into her eyes with sweat pouring off of our faces. I wait for her on this street at her request. I will never watch her eyes smile at me from across a room. This city belongs to me. I will never taste the flesh of a pure soul. I stand with no fear as the men walking from the bar are rolled. I will never fly with my own wings. Police sirens are all faint. The man I thought I'd be mocks me. No law comes here. The boy I was hates the man I am. I watch the barges move slowly down the river. The man I am is desperate for affection. The deep horns are soothing compared to the high-pitched chatter if the rats. The man I will be is dying.
I don't want things to be this way. It swells up from inside me. I don't want to wake up. I am standing all alone. I will never be the same. She isn't here. In my heaven, she is there, along with twelve other people, my family and my dog. I feel it coming on. She should have been in my life longer than the few weekends I saw her. I sense its destruction. I will never feel this pain again. I know what it wants. No one listens to me. I don't even fight it anymore; I give in and enjoy it.
posted by Yossarian at 12:30 PM
8 Comments:
what do you mean you don't believe in karma?? haven't you seen 'my name is earl'?? if carson daly said its real, it must be true
does this have anything to do with the rocketbar?
fabulous.
I bet you're all jealous that none of you are having a mother-son head-shaving session tonight.
And what part sounded like the rocketbar? For those of you who don't know this story, and I wasn't there for this but cocaine was, so maybe he'll do a better job telling it, but Y took a running leap at a wall in this place called the Rocketbar (which was this cheesy indie-rock dipshit bar we used to go to because people liked us there even though we ripped on all the music and would take over the jukebox and play hip hop and piss everyone off until they turned the jukebox off) and made a giant hole in the wall with his ass. He got banned for a couple years, as I recall, until cocaine and I forced him to sack up and bum rush the place and re-establish our dominance. Which we did.
For as much as we hated that place, good stories abound when I recall it.
I like to go into a bar and pick out all the Stevie Wonder on the jukebox. everyone likes it. they just don't want to admit it.
A - I took multiple leaps and landed them successfully on the couch
B - I over shot one by about 4 feet and put a hole in the wall
C - They were more flips than they were leaps
yes this is all true. never walk a double path and never put your ass through a wall if you want a bar owner to like you. that place wasnt dark enough to make a majority look good, and it was damn dark. unkind noted that the stl music scene was populated by rat people. again, mostly true.
yes this is all true. never walk a double path and never put your ass through a wall if you want a bar owner to like you. that place wasnt dark enough to make a majority look good, and it was damn dark. unkind noted that the stl music scene was populated by rat people. again, mostly true.
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