Living it up, just the way they want.
I've always felt separated, apart and different. I can't think of a single person who has ever fully understood me, short of my best friends in elementary Stacy and Shawn Borders and that was a good seven years ago. It seemed so quick those five years of elementary. It was a time of carefree bliss, when my biggest problems were those two laces that lay frayed and dangling behind untied shoes. What are we to do when forced into a single file line, destination “desk job” with matching cubicles? A herd of cows lumbering towards the slaughterhouse, mooo. Sitting behind our keyboards and computer screens we will waste what is left of our ever-shortening lives typing up sales reports and popping Tylenol to numb the constant pounding headaches. Time really does keep on slipping slipping slipping into the future.
“There’s no money, there’s no possessions. Only obsessions, I don’t need that shit.
Take my money, take my possessions. Take my obsessions, I don’t need that shit.”
Is that what I want? To walk head to tail to my demise, to a place where my own individuality is squashed and distorted until all that is left is a cheap suit, shiny shoes and a tie? Fuck that. I would rather die now then slowly rot away, and yet I find myself trotting down that path. I go to work so I can go to school; I go to school so I can get a better job to go to work, it’s a vitriolic cycle. For now I must do what I must, but mark my words either I will be something great, ruler of the world or maker of peace or something that everyone will remember me for, or I will go down trying. I WILL NOT go down without a fight, even if it means catching that mad cow disease, and taking some of you fuckers with me.
So walk your lines my friends, it’s all the same to me.
Until next time; live it up, because tonight the stars revolt.
-Chris-





