Enough of this shit.

‘Enough of this shit,’ I thought at exactly 8:35 night, got up from my chair, turned it to face my laptop, sat back, turned on my laptop, thought about writing some more shit. The music, well, it never stops playing as long as I am alive and not deaf. Once I go deaf, it will make for a completely different story. A tragic story, tragic like nothing else. I guess I’ve still got time to go deaf. I think something else will take me away before that happens. Something like my 9-5 job. Yeah. Something as brutal as that. A 9-5 job can be more brutal than any war. Billions of casualties every day. BILLIONS! Can you imagine that, billions dying the same death every day and all that for nothing? And all that repeating the next day and the next and the next. What can be more brutal than that! At least war doesn’t take that long to end you, and it has got a much better flavor. I heard that nothing good ever comes out of a war. It’s true. Nothing good comes out of a 9-5 job either. That’s my goddamn truth. Everyday brutality is something quite personal. It can take any form. For me, it’s my 9-5 job. For others, it might be something else. But that brutality is there in some form. You can see it clearly in their faces, in the ways they fail to laugh with all their heart. So much fear. So much spite for one another. So much good and mad and all that down the shithole without anybody noticing. I am a little different and completely fucked up. I have got these damned eyes and this damned brain and I can see it all. Some motherfucker rang my doorbell again. Must be the neighbors’ kids. Someday I will fit a bomb there. Someday. The rain seems to have stopped. Yeah, it rained like hell this evening, all that rainwater filling the belly of this earth. There could be some other earth somewhere, surviving on sulfur, on peroxides, on the most poisonous of the poisons. Out of nowhere, I begin to think about such an alternative earth. No, I am not getting anywhere. I will die right here with my beer and my cigarettes and my mad heroes and mad artists. That will be my end and it won’t be that bad and I do not know whether to feel happy or sad about it..

Copyright © Tomic Riter. All rights reserved.

3 thoughts on “Enough of this shit.

Leave a Reply to Allison Marie Conway Cancel reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s