i’m not like that, i don’t do that, i’m wasting my time by talking with you

i’ll flirt with you but only if it leads somewhere.
but not in that way because i’d feel guilty and i’m not like that
it’s easier to say what i’m not like
i’m not ready

to avoid ridicule people want to be the same, this isn’t news but it feels that way

i feel embarrassed about certain things i do
as if if someone saw me, they’d ask “who does that”
then i’d feel inadequate for not keeping up with some fad that, apparently, describes what people do and don’t do.
it seems equivalent to christians consulting the bible.
it’s best not to follow anything too closely.

i can never get my pizza to look like the one on the box and the short woman in the back is prespiring

i noticed, while watching those late night exercise offers, that you can never really do it like the person demonstrating. all the people in the back are fine, but you can’t really get it yourself. you are in better shape than they are but they do it better. it feels as though they attended some seminar for back up exercisers. it’s something shallow to question but i feel the same when my boxed meals don’t look like the box.

i could think of a thousand things to do with myself at this moment and none of them are safe

sometimes i don’t know what to do with myself and feel that colliding my head with a wall is the only thing. of course i don’t do it. it’s like one of those feelings where you want to punch the person standing ahead of you in a queue at the back of the head, but don’t.

a ghost is tapping on my door and wants to come in. i tell it not to bother, i’m no fun anyway

i told the person that i’m currently involved with that my last act of love for them would be an act of necrophilia of some sort. they said that it’ll be fine with them; it’ll be good for the both us. they would watch from some place located just above while i carried out my promise as they violently pleasured their transparent-self.

ghosts don’t feel pleasure.
well, what about those people getting raped by ghosts?
you believe that?
i want to.
they’re dead. they don’t feel anything.
i want to.
then you will. i’ll make it good for you.

you shouldn’t cause traffic blockage because a police officer is sitting on the shoulder, writing someone else a ticket

sometime during midday traffic, i will step out of my car to inform most of the other motorists of my broken fingernail, causing a blockage. people will get out of the vehicles to console me as i hold the parted finger nail in my hand, shoving it in people’s faces as i cried. then a truck driver will come along and propose to me and i will accept.

i hate musicals and rings of saliva left around my mouth after a kiss but i find it harsh to blame you

after i left that night, i know that you were sporting an erection and maybe even masturbated while you replayed our horrible kiss over and over in your head, adding details you wish had happened but didn’t. you probably ejaculated furiously into your lap and felt ashamed but couldn’t point out what about. then you’d taken all of the hot pocket wrappings off of your bed and laid down and wished you were dead.

when the male initiates an open mouth kiss they are unconsciously transferring testosterone to the female, stimulating arousal

our noses. they aren’t touching. are we doing it right?
usually when i see this sort of thing happen, their noses are touching.
it’s ok i guess. no pressure.
this is a bad time but would you like to know what i read on wikipedia?
it’s really sciencey. you’d like it because you like things like this.
oh ok.
no. it’s fine if our noses don’t touch.
i can’t feel my arm anymore anyway.

no one’s died but i can’t stop thinking about death

i don’t like to admit it but people wouldn’t like it if i were dead. it’s hard not to contribute to another’s life be it in good or bad ways. i think about seeing those television shows where there’s some person hysterically crying and i think ‘good actor’. when it comes my turn i’d think ‘am i really, really worth all that?’

people go to funerals and they cry and when that happens i cry too. i don’t feel much of anything for the person laying there unless they’ve been an important part of my living.

they say that it’s all in the energy. sad energy or something. it’s the same feeling of being a child and seeing your mom cry but you don’t know what for and soon you’re crying too, but you still don’t know why.

i shouldn’t go grocery shopping alone

i felt extremely lonely today and began to look up the steps of writing a will.
there wouldn’t be very many people included in it.
i feel angry but i don’t know how to fix it.
i feel like throwing a tantrum in the middle of the produce section of a store.
i want to fling fruit and vegetables at the bakery section and scream ‘this is my body and the world is my oyster’.
people would look at me and then look for an adult.
control your child.