I try twice as hard and I’m half as liked.
Etcetera Etcetera by Jay Garfinkle, 2011. Acrylic on canvas, 16 x 20 inches.
So this is it? I sold my soul for this? Washed my hands of that for this? I miss my mom and dad for this?
No. When I see stars, when I see, when I see stars, that’s all they are.
When I hear songs, they sound like this one, so come on. Oh come on. Oh, come on. OH COME ON.
Well, this is it guys, that is all - five minutes in and I’m bored again.
Ten years of this, I’m not sure if anybody understands. This one is not for the folks at home; Sorry mom, I had to go. Who the fuck wants to die alone all dried up in the desert sun?
My heart is breaking for my sister and the con that she call “love”. But when I look into my nephew’s eyes… Man, you wouldn’t believe the most amazing things that can come from some terrible lies…
I believe it’s true; ‘cause nothing matters when I’m all wrapped up in you.
When the last King of Hollywood shatters his glass on the floor,
And orders another,
Well I wonder what he did that for?
And I know that I have to get out,
‘Cause I have been there before.
It’s definitely a good night to sob to your favorite song until you pass out.
Well maybe there’s a God above, but all I’ve ever learned from love was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya.
I keep thinking,
And this is where someone should say, “And that’s where it went wrong,”.
I won’t argue. 90 percent of my problems spawn from my over-analyzing. It just doesn’t have an off switch, alright?
But I have enough to distract me from how much I suck. I have enough to. Enough games, enough books, enough music, and enough lying men to tell me how great I am. Even though the lack of feeling when they say so just depresses the hell out of me.
I don’t understand how someone can hate romance as much as I do. Maybe I’m just perpetually hormonal. Maybe I’ve just fooled myself one too many times to believe in anything again.
Right now I just need to know who I am. I don’t have time to wonder who someone else is.
Maybe I’ll write again. Anything to destroy the indifference. Although it’s impossible for anyone to leave me alone long enough. Just one day. That’s it. One day without anyone wanting me to go anywhere or do anything. I need my reclusiveness from time to time or I just lose it.
But right now, it’s alright. Because I have this.
Ohh, my head is on fire—but my legs are fine. After all, they are mine. Lay your clothes down on the floor, close the door, hold the phone, show me how, NO ONE’S EVER GONNA STOP US NOW.
I play a lot of video games to masque my inadequacies. It works sometimes, but pretty soon you beat all the games and hate yourself again.
Time to go to Best Buy.
