YOU AIN'T AMPHIBIOUS SO GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF

you just don't know
how much i want to
hold that dainty thing
you call your hand

every time you smile
in my direction
i feel just like
a millionaire with dope shoes

let's share a milkshake
make conversation, yes
i think it's about time
we do this.

fuck being the best at writing papers on political theories and applications for the most bullshittingest and boringest fucking fuckface class on the face of this planet. HEY YOU FUCKING GIANT, WHY DON'T YOU JUST SHOW US EPISODES OF THE WEST WING EVERYDAY AND LET MARTIN SHEEN TEACH THE FUCKING CLASS INSTEAD OF PUTTING US THROUGH THE EXCRUTIATING HELL OF THE POLITICS OF THE UNITED STATES OF SHIT.

fuck style analysis and the nit-picking of trivial and bullshit writing conventions for one test in may that will only garner the respect of english majors and idiots who actually believe in this shit. WOW, I FOUND FIVE EXAMPLES OF DICTION, TWO WAYS IN WHICH THE POINT OF VIEW HELPED KEEP THE NARRATIVE FLOW, AND A WHOLE LOT OF FUCKING COMMAS AND PERIODS. NOW YOU HOT AIR BALLOON, CAN YOU PLEASE TELL ME, WHY THE FUCK SHOULD I CARE?

fuck writing my opinion when it has no base to begin with because everything is inherently fucked and to complain about it would be banal and stupid. fuck writing stupid bullshit that will get the meat and potatoes cut the fuck out because the editor's like the blase-blase style of writing in which a person has no voice or carries any literary merit besides, "HEY, THIS WRITING STINKS SO HORRIBLY BAD AND NO ONE WANTS TO READ IT EXCEPT FOR SENIOR CITIZENS AND THE PEOPLE WHO WIPE THEIR ASSES WITH IT." IF I WANTED MY SHIT TO BE BUTCHERED AND CUT I'D HOOK UP THE PLUMBING SYSTEM OF MY TOILET TO MY PAPER SHREDDER. DICKS.

fuck documenting a generally uneventful year and a stupid fucking school for a yearbook that will suck anyway beacuse no one knows what the fuck they're doing, not even the fucking people running the shit, not even a fucking mouse. PEOPLE SHOULD BE FUCKING WARNED THAT THEY ARE PAYING 35 DOLLARS FOR BULLSHIT LIKE LAST YEAR, BULLSHIT BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE LETTER T AND FUCKED UP BY A CLASS FULL OF UNINSPIRED ASSHOLES LIKE MYSELF WHO PUT SHIT TOGETHER TO MEET DEADLINE AND EAT SHIT, EAT SHIT, EAT SHIT!

fuck going to a cross country banquet when all we're going to fucking hear is the coach slurping on the fucking cocks of his top runners while we hear parents in awe of his stupid fucking slide show with meaningless race times and his stupid, funny only to himself, point and click narration. I'VE KNOWN YOU FOR FIVE YEARS AND COUNTING ASSHOLE AND ALL YOU DO IS TRY TO BE COOL LIKE IT'S STILL NINETEEN NINETY FUCKING ONE. NO ONE CARES ABOUT THE FUCKING DEDICATION IT TOOK PREFONTAINE TO BREAK THE SOUND BARRIER OR WHATEVER THE FUCK HE DID THAT MADE YOU SO ATTRACTED AND OBSESSED WITH HIS COCK. I BET IF I COACHED THE TEAM EVERYONE WOULD HAVE MADE IT TO STATE, NOT JUST YOUR LOVE-CHILD AA.

-

syke, i'm actually quite fond of winmill and his crazy antics. he's definitely going to be the frame for a character of a movie someday. great guy, that winmill, just too passionate about his jogging.

i'm actually not really mad about anything, just that i let myself let the weekend slip through my fingers with some of the best movies... EVER! battle royale and shaolin soccer have to be my two newestest mostest favoritest movies in the world. ever. i'm definitely going to buy them when i get some money. best in show and brother from another planet were dope too. but i didn't do any homework. *sniff*

AHAHA i love it. i've rediscovered that love for everything. it feels great. i'm going to use this love and direct it towards some homework that needs to be attended to. i'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it.

i am contemplating whether or not i should really ask dr. muckerheide to be my sponsor for confirmation. my mom asked him without my consent, and so, if he accepts to do it, it's cool, i guess. but still. muck and catholicism, who would have thought the two would go hand in hand? i'm actually excited to go to the next confirmation meeting, even though i hate everything about this fucking religion. it's not an irony, but an act of causality that i don't give a fuck about organized worship, yet my parents are practitioners of the most ritualistic bullshit known to mankind. and for all of you guys going, "hell yeah, catholics are gay," just hold on a sec. fuck your bible. fuck your torah. fuck your koran. fuck whatever the fuck siddharta wrote. jesus don't want me for a sunbeam, and it's the fucking truth.

syke.

but really, i don't care about any of it. i mean, i do care. i like that some people feel good about themselves under a communal roof, where they sing and praise whatever great power(s) that be. those types of people find the sense of meaning in their lives easily, whereas i can't seem to find shit in anything. i don't mean to diss on religion and all of that shit, denominational, non-denominational, othodox, unorthodox, whateverthefuck, i don't care. and yes, i know what's in the bible. i know about the commandments, the beatitudes, the seven deadly sins, saul who became paul, and that fruity coat that my namesake got from his dad. it's all interesting, on some level, but i just don't know. everytime i hear a preacher, whatever the denominatiion, make their biblical interpretations and daily life applications, my soul, for all that it's worth, feels nothing. i can't connect, i can't relate, i can't give a fuck, even if i tried.

so it's funny for me to be in the youth group scene again, to go through the motions of asking god for his blessings while holding hands with teenagers who probably believe all of the shit they hear during a liturgy. fucking campers. fucking koombaya motherfuckers who have it easy, who don't need to try and have faith in anything, they just do. ignorance is fucking bliss.

my blasphemous uncle, in the philippines, who is rewriting the bible, told me that i may live to see the end of the world. crazy motherfucker.

it's no accident that i grew up to be so scornful of this shit, since it was forced down my throat and up through the other end as well.

and then there's the issue of my editorial on nhs. don't get me fucking started. what is honor? grades? if that's honor, i'll just keep the c- in my junior year of journalism, thank you very much. and then i'll get the queen to knight my ass "sir," and then we'll see how you "hardworking scholars" like to fuck with the better lifeforces of this morbid-fucking landscape. assholes.

make fun of the emotional young men and angry young women all you want. we're all going through the fucking pavement anyway.

if i've got once inch of decency left in my body, i'm going to use it to plant a flower.

i've finally figured out why i'm going to be alone for the rest of my life. here it is: FUCK YOU, JEW. I QUIT.

cold. broke. immobile.