Monday, March 2, 2009

It’s not so much that I mind them being happy, because I really don’t.
I mean, yes, he’s still hot. That’s always been a constant,
And he knows it, and she knows it too.
And it’s not really that upsetting if they care about each other, or anything
Like that.
But I guess it bothers me that they’re so open about it. It’s like they want to rub it in my face.
Which, I can see why he would, but not why she would.
And all of the contempt… I don’t think it’ll ever really go away
Like it’s addicted to my atmosphere, like I accidentally
Gathered it all around my ankles,
And I have to trudge through it every day. Every day a new person, a new problem.
I want to leave and it not be called running away, but that’s sort of impossible I guess.
Like Bear Grylls said himself – don’t pull on your foot to get it out of the mud, twist it out
And it’ll work much better.
Or I could stand in it and be like the pilot who the Grylls mentioned, standing there, unable to move,
Until he died there, and everyone had to listen to the whole ordeal.
I like the twisting best.