end year orgy of ugly things

the year end rush has sapped my energy. now i write not knowing where it will lead me. i am in the process of breaking someone's heart by forcing myself into another's. so it's actually very unchristmassy of me to do. i've never been kind anyway.

maybe it won't amount to anything in the end. but fuck the end. is that all there is to it? all goals and targets and the summary execution of details? what about now?

damn that boy. he is still in my head. like a nagging itch i can't scratch. he leaves everything so bare, so organically dismal. he feeds off my tragedy like a janitor fish hopelessly fascinated by the muck at the bottom of a cheap aquarium. i pry myself off him and swim to the other end- to dirtier waters.

she looks pale, fat and generally uninteresting in the picture- like one of them plump, purple skirted fairy godmothers of that goddamn wimpy cinderella. so i tell him. he says he can't hurt her but he misses me like hell. i tell him, he's lucky i haven't bashed his head in yet.

i can't wait for this year to end. can't wait for the deadlines to be over then i can wickedly snip off some people off my precious life. which reminds me, i need boots so i can do serious ass kicking. off with that head!