I feel like that dude from the Godfather sometimes, you know the old dude with the square jaw who talks like he has cotton in his mouth; he had that line - ..."every time I try to get out, they pull me back in..."
It's like the fucking ghost of Christmas past just walked into the room and fucking sucker punched me. What was that, why was that? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUUUUCCCKKK! Am I missing something here, is this screwed up universe trying to tell me something, is this fuck with Earl day and I just didn't get the memo. I speak English and a bit of Creole, I am not competent in sign language. Flipping the bird is about the only sign language I understand. This must be some kind (or not so kind) of joke. If you're up there or around here watching, I'm not laughing.
DAMN IT.
I have of late taken the view that no matter how rebellious, unconventional, non-conformist we would like to think ourselves, we are at some point always part of a similar grouping of people. We are never truly leaders, but followers. Followers, I prefer to refer to us as sheep; because at one point or another in our life we are all sheep. This is a place to express myself, vent my frustration with the sheepdom, and relieve my boredom. It is my therapy for all that contributes to my neurosis.
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