"...how am i gonna be an optimist about this?" -bastille, pompeii
it's funny how you feel your grips loosen on your reins, you know. you know what i mean. sometimes you recognize the madness around you, not because it's obvious, but because its familiar. one million tiny mirrors around every corner. you begin to find Charles Bukowski less and less ironic. Patrick Bateman becomes more tragic.
i am ever more reminded of the time i drove past the Cadillac Ranch and didn't stop. i should have insisted on halting the CrownVic, but no one listens to the chick in a tore up Stranglers t-shirt with a Hello Kitty lunchbox purse who can't keep track of her money or flip flops. instead, i concentrated on Oklahoma, on how i thought it was beautiful, and wether or not those clouds were cells.
people will have fucked up expectations of you no matter what. it will never matter how poorly someone treated you, it will not prevent them from imagining your favors are forfeit to them.
what a fucked up perspective.
take some responsibility.
i love that succinct pop phrase: i just can't. because, i actually just can't.
so, i really think it's making me crazy. the more i try to be so good, do no harm, hurt no one, the more i have the exact opposite effect. oh well, can't please em all.
***
in Germany, a man argued with his family. things escalated. he stormed out, got into his car and left to purchase explosives. when he returned, he detonated his car, killing himself, injuring seven family members and neighbors, and damaging houses.
...it's just so passionate.
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