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[Jun. 18th, 2009|11:14 am] |
The piece you're about to read may fuck with your head, so read with caution.
I'm sick of being THAT GUY, the one who goes to a party and just sits in the dark, lonely, self-pitying, self-loathing corner, below the imaginary exit sign, cliff edge, hell. Everyone else oblivious, or at least ignorant, they smile politely/falsely, they dance/girate, whilst THAT GUY just sits there, hating them, hating the world, hating himself. Hating! They keep running to the toilet, always pairs, returning with their nose twitching and their zip undone, oblivious, ignorant, THAT GUY. They laugh and joke in unison with their WKD and white stripe in hand, THAT GUY sitting there with a bottle of jack daniels in one hand, the other around his throat or his dick, i'm not sure, he's not sure. Someone asks THAT GUY for a dance, he says 'yes, no, maybe, just the one' when in reality what he wants to say is 'get some led zep on and of course i'll dance', what he wants to say and do don't really exist though, do they. I'm sick of being THAT GUY, their saviour, their messiah, Jesus, yeah i'm sick. People always crying on his shoulder, yet sleeping with his girlfriend, his pet hamster, his lawnmower, anything because they all hate THAT GUY, the world, themselves. Hating! I'm sick of being THAT GUY and I know you know THAT GUY, in fact I bet some of you are THAT GUY. Yeah you're THAT GUY, crying themselves, terrified, because when you die, when you do something big, something special no one will notice, no one will care, no one in truth really likes THAT GUY. |
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