|
My Struggle by This_Is_Not |
(112 views) -
8/29/09 (recorded 8/29/09 @ 6:49:40 PM) |
| Trudging along the sidewalk I notice a beat down car coming at me from behind some bushes and I make a startled sound out of instinct. I sometimes wonder why we bother to make a sound, there’s really no valid reason to make a noise…it’s not like the driver would hear me and think to be a bit more careful going around shrubbery the next time. It’s too humid out, I stepped outside and am already soaking in my uniform. I keep going, staring down at the pavement, avoiding all the cracks. The cracks start to remind me of my own life and I think to myself how horribly cliché acknowledging failure has become; about what such a negative mindset it must take to see your failure in everything. The apartments in front of me have a dilapidated feel to them and stretch on as far as I can see. I attempt to envision all the trite and overplayed personality types going about their business with frivolous concerns scurrying about. I open the glass door full of outdated advertisements carelessly thrown across them and am greeted by an old Korean man disappointed it’s another American soldier coming in to buy what he obviously deems to be some useless bullshit. Unfortunately for him - that is all he sells. I picture him as a small kid running around in the third world that was Korea hoping for something better so many years ago. I take note of his own personal tragedy I have assigned to him and make a beeline to the back to grab a soda. The floors are freshly wiped and I almost slip, I take a second to regroup myself reminding myself to be more cautious. I slowly progress forward until I reach the back and view the selection of beverages… I have an existential crisis about my life at this moment. I suffer through it for a brief minute pretending I am having a difficult time deciding my choice in drink to save the other customers from thinking about their own dismal lives. Despair spreads like wildfire in the hearts of men - if only because hope is so much more cruel. In which case it is far better to despair than to hope! I comfort myself with the notion that it is a much more noble thing that I do - that is - to live in the truth rather than masquerade in a lie. I begin walking up to the counter when a blond empty headed huge breasted woman with a stroller cuts me off. I’m rather annoyed by this action, so I begin to debase her in my mind. First I imagine smashing her face in with my Sobe bottle, a 20 oz. thick glass bottle scarring her face beyond recognition, then ripping off her shirt and tit fucking her while simultaneously jamming the baby in the stroller back into her vagina repeatedly until they’re both dead…She finishes purchasing her tampons and I go up to the scrawny little counter top with a disgusted look on my face gazing into the disgruntled clerk’s zipperhead eye…this is what has become of my life. | ||||||||
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