123 lines
7.3 KiB
Plaintext
123 lines
7.3 KiB
Plaintext
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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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What's Wrong With You?
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----------------------
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The time has come, I feel the writers block that's been sitting
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behind my eyes has finally vanished, and it seems I can get the words that
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I think all day out onto some form of media. Usually, it's just a case of
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being too disgusted to write, thinking that nobody will appreciate it
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anyway, or look at it and think it's just a file of meaningless bitching
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and nitpicking.
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Most of the past year and a half of my life has been pretty unpleasant, for
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different reasons. Mostly, it's been caring about someone I'd never have a
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chance with, worthless jobs and bullshit friends. Don't make the assumption
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that every minute that has passed has been miserable for me. I have had a
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lot of good times, and have good memories of this part of my life, but
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there are a lot of bad spots of it, and I can't blame all of it on other
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people. I'll be the first to admit that I cause some of my own problems,
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but since I'm the only one to blame for those, I can generally deal with
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them. The things that really get to me are the problems that can't really
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be blamed on a person. Somehow, things are easier to deal with if there's
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someone to point at and say, "This is all because of you."
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I can't really blame anyone for my dead end job except myself, and that's
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not really a big problem. I'm just starting to get sick of going in for 8
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hours a day, taking shit from customers, co-workers, and bosses, being
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underpaid, doing far more and better work for the company than they deserve
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and getting jack shit in recognition for it. I guess I'm ok with the whole
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thing though. I mean, this is the wonderful world of having a career. It's
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a lot easier to get up and go in the morning when I think about the
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prospect of being homeless, and sleeping on someone^<5E>s couch when I can't
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pay my rent. I didn't even bother going to work today, mostly because I'm
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so disgusted with the whole work experience there. The part about this that
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bothers me is that I'm already fed up with this, and I'll pretty much need
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to hold a job for most of the rest of my life. The idea of doing this sort
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of shit for the next 50 or so years is a tiring one, but I'll manage, I
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always seem to find a way.
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My friends are another thing that brings me grief from time to time. I have
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a lot of good friends, who I know would do anything for me, and then a few
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fair-weather friends, but everyone has those. You can get used to it. There
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are times, though, that I need people not to give me shit about my fuck-ups
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and shortcomings, and nobody seems to recognize this. I go through times
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that I need to be left alone, without any social contact other than my
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computer and music. Some people just can't tell or don't care when these
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times are, and that can be bad. I retreat into my shell and try to avoid
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the word for a while, and people keep poking at me, with whatever goal they
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have in mind. All that really does is show me who my best friends are, and
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brings me closer to them.
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Caring about someone is probably the worst thing that has ever happened to
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me. Most people consider this a good thing, probably because it's worked
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out for them at least once in their lives. When I realize that someone
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(read: female) means something to me, the first thing that goes through my
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head is "Oh shit."
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Yeah, I'm being pessimistic about it, but I always seem to care about
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people I can never have, so it seems like this will be an ongoing thing.
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This sort of problem is probably the worst, and there's not a lot that can
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be done about it. There are some standard responses to it: you can beat the
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fuck out of the nearest solid object, you can hop a bus and leave town, or
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you can try your friendly neighborhood liquor store. None of them really
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help much, but this is a kind of situation where you can't really sit
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around and do nothing, it leaves you with a feeling that you must do
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something about it, no matter how futile it may be.
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I tried the drinking route, it didn't help much, but it makes you forget,
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makes the time go by a bit faster, and when you come out of it, memories
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are hazy. It doesn't really do anything to change the outcome, and you'll
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probably just end up looking like a fool because of over-consumption.
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Eventually, I got out of this because a friend told me that the person I
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was drinking over thought it was a big negative, so I cut down hard, which
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anyone who has known me as of late will find a big shock. I had my friends
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and a lot of other people I really respect telling me to stop drinking, and
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I brushed them off, just telling them that I would be fine and to mind
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their own business. Anyone who has asked me this will be happy to know that
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I finally did, but not because of their requests, and things look pretty
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much the same. I guess there is something to be said for seeing every day
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with clarity, even if I don't have the brainpower to interpret it properly.
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I'm just kind of tired of being put down as immature because of things like
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this, just because I care about shit, and sometimes, things just fucking
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get to me.
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I feel kind of empty now that I've gotten these thoughts out of my head and
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into a place where the rest of the world can see them, even if they didn't
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make the transition to text as well as they should have. Very few people
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are talented enough to get things out of their mind without them changing.
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Maybe somehow, this will point me at some sort of solution for my problems,
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I originally thought that just toughing them out would work, and they would
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eventually resolve themselves, but that hasn't seemed to work, so I guess
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it's time to find something else to try. When I'm happy again, I'll be the
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person that everyone knew before, always able to make someone laugh, never
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tired, always up for something to do. I'll be glad to see that version of
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me back again. I kinda miss him.
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A wink, a smile, and a kiss good-bye.
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el_jefe
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= Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, Submissions =
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= Mail: jericho@dimensional.com (Mail is welcomed) =
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= (c) Copyright. All files copyright by the original author. =
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