Thursday, July 1, 2010

Salt In The Wound

my body told me turn around but the momentum was way too much. how could i come to a screeching halt and do an about face when i've been running so hard in one direction for so long. the laws of nature don't allow it. and there i was trying to think of ways to go against nature, to beat her bloody hard and make her look a fool. haha. i had myself going.

i think i have ADD because next thing i know i'm thinking to myself where the fuck to they come up with these important ages. like you can't watch racy movies until you're 13, can't smoke until your 19, no drinking until you're 21, driving at what...17 these days, cheaper coffee and whatnot at 65. the list goes on. offensive video games at 17, renting a car at 21 also - weird how those two are paired. enlist in the armed forces at 18, tattoos at what...18? they won't diagnose you with crazy insane-people diseases until you're like 20. heck with parental consent you can be emancipated before 18 and do a whole bunch of what i just listed earlier. it's all cool if your parents are on board for the ride. hell, at least you'll have them to blame.

after a moment removed from the moment at hand i find myself tearing off scabs just to wish on them. to wish for the things i lost back. the things that walked away. the things i pushed away, and the things i threw away. for some of them to be like a boomerang.

and i know the impossible can't become possible just by wishing, but there's too many hours in a day not to at some point find myself believing in miracles and in time travel and in what ifs.

i'm mindfucked.

also, i'm thinking of inventing a real travel size salt, the size of a credit card, because how often do you find yourself wanting salt, but not badly enough to get up and get it?


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