Monday, December 10, 2007

I want to be tucked away in a place where people try to avoid one another. My wife and I our respective works, and thoughts of why we decided never to have kids. Our parents were bad at it, why wouldn't we be too? I shudder to think about how much I could readily fuck up another individual's life. I can glance at minor connections with my parents, attempt to understand their dispositions, their boring lives spent in seperate rooms, and yet neither of them are working on anyting cataclysmic. They're just trying to stay awake. I don't ever want to get like this. I can handle a substancial lack of phonecalls and drunken looks from across enclosed spaces. I just want the comfort of knowing deep down inside that there are other options. I'm sick of predicting the future, or coming up with a readily available answer to all the normal questions. I keep repeating myself. Some would consider this bitching. I prefer to call it venting. It sounds better that way. Bitching is something girls do when they slowly but surely realize that no one in the room is paying attention to them. Mirrors are meant for egos. Who created the seven years bad luck thing anyways? I could venture a few guesses.

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