th3 6l04m1n6

I came ready to write a lot of my witty commentaries about this bizarre test in downward spirals called "Mario", but that will have to be left for later. I'm just not that cocky at this point. I have this tumor in my soul, a bad mixture of loneliness, desperation, frustration, anger and pain that lives in a tormented circle of recession-propagation.

So I will try to be more straightforward, sparkling my posts with bits and pieces of lyrics from Radiohead travelling through my ears as I write.

Satisfaction is quite easy to define, you know....

Sometimes you sulk, sometimes you bawl, God rest your soul when the loving comes and we've already gone, just like your dad, you'll never change

..you either like to some degree the current state of affairs on your life and check back every now and then to make sure it stays like that, or you dislike it and try to change things around until your reality fits your expectations a little more. The first state would somehow qualify as "happiness", the second one is, well, "unhappiness". Actually it's also a matter of duration, you know, if you spend a reasonable amount of time in either state, you might have a little detour to the other state and you would still remain in your original state. You know, a good joke might not make you happy even though you laugh at it....

I've seen it all I've seen the dark and I've seen the pride light as a little spark, I've seen what I choose and I've seen what I need, I've seen it all to want more would be greed.

...and a car accident won't make you unhappy if you remain to keep enough of your original situation to move along your happiness state.

I am unsatisfied, not because I don't like my current state of affairs (that happens from time to time) but because I've been struggling to change it and though there has been a reasonable amount of evolution, I still feel that I'm giving a lot more than it's possible to restock. I know now that I'm a great person capable of great things, lovable and loving, ready to take over the world if the need must come, and taking already the steps to do it. But all this impatience, all these feelings of breaking my emotional ass, trying not to lose my sanity in the process are wearing me off and I'm cracking around the edges. Frustration is creeping in and to be perfectly honest, unless I get a real change (or at the very least, the hint of a change to come)

kill me Sarah, kill me again with love....It's gonna be a glorious day...

All the composure, maturity and control so legendary in me....

the head of state has called for me by name, but I don't have time for him,
It's gonna be a glorious day, I feel my luck could change...

...are about to be blown out the window, with unknown results.

we're standing on the edge

I'm just sick of it, so sick that I won't even bother explaining all the jackassery I've had to endure from everywhere. Something has to snap, to make a hideous sound, to burn to ashes, to hurt and bleed someone somewhere, even if that someone has to be me.

sometimes I get overcharged
that's when you see sparks
They ask me where the hell I'm going
at a 1000 feet per second

Hey man slowdown
slowdown
Idiot, slowdown
slowdown

I am so in touch now with ol' Kurt's Kobain philosophy: burning instead of fading away, I think I've accumulated enough good karma, and I want to cash it NOW, because I'm tired of awaiting for the right reason, the special person and the light at the end of the tunnes that, so far, keep failing to show up.

Is this my last post ever? who knows? I will keep on stuffing words on the internet while I'm alive...

I am fused just in case I blow up
I am grazed just in case I crack out
everything I touch..
Turns to stone
Everything I touch
(all wrapped up in Crinoline)
(all wrapped up and sugar-coated)
turns to stone.

...and finding time to therapy myself through these mutterings. But one thing is for sure, I won't play destiny's jest, I will not push around an existence of witnessing other's moments denied to me for reasons never explained. I will not make, for a single second, life easier for my surroundings if those surroundings keep on beating me as if they hated my guts. Quoting the late Layne Stanley, "If I can't be my own, I feel better dead".

If this was in fact my last post, Kitty can keep the cd's, Val the cards and JJ the games.

And please tell Psycho that he is a freaking idiot for staying with that slut. Nevermind, I might as well tell him before pulling the plug.

However, if a week from now I do post something new, cheer me up guys, at that point it might actually help.

So knives out, catch the mouse
pull it down, shove it in your mouth

I want you to know he's not coming back
he's bloated and frozen
still there's no point in letting it go to waste

So knives out, catch the mouse
squash his head, put it in the pot.