I hate it so much. I hate it so much. I hate the fucking phonies, I hate the men, I hate the friends that never call, I hate the years gone by, I hate the distant memories, I hate the lump in my throat, I hate the silence and I hate the noise.
I hate the efforts, I hate the high hopes, I hate the mirror and faceslapped idiot and the headlit deer and the reality check and the reality tv finally disconnected and the runny nose and stomachsick and everybody everybody everybody and me and the rows of hearts impaled in the lawn. i hate hiding and i hate reevaluating and i hate growing old and dying and staying the fucking same. this shantytown, movieset, fucked beyond recognition illfit suit of a fucking life and you ask yourself how-comes it always disappointing? WHEN DID THIS FUCKING HAPPEN? he said yeah of course you could make it happen and i said really and he said but you have to really get out and you have to go on the road 200 days a year for three to five years and then you'll have an opportunity because then you'll just get so good for playing for people every night and you have to want to do it, do you? and i said--
i don't know
because ive always been a gypsy and i hate staying places and soaking in my own filth but right now i dont wanna leave even though i have nothing here, nothing, i mean nothing, if i died tomorrow nobody would even know for weeks but for the stench but. but i dont wanna leave here right now because im in love with this whore.
yeah paid by the hour, im not gonna talk about it, youre tearbored already, everyone else is, well by everything, by me, im fucking NOTHING. I WANT TO CLAW MY FUCKING EYES OUT RIGHT NOW. I AM SUCH A GHASTLY CONCENTRATION of WAY TOO MUCH FUCKING LIGHT INVADING WAY TOO SMALL A FUCKING SPOT. i'm carcinoma. hear me fucking roar.