The Way I Was Meant to Live

My face isn't right.

I need a new one.

One that won't
wrinkle
and only
expresses happiness.

Then,
I can finally
feel good about myself.

I also need a
new dick.

Mine's much too small.

Well I'm at it,
might as well get a new
butthole.

Mine's
much too stinky
and it's
far
too heavy.

I don't like my toes either.

Same with my back.

It has
too many scars.

I might as well
get a new
life.

This one's boring.

There's only
one way
to solve this.

Where's my computer?

Here it is,
google,
ok,
search,
hot air balloons.

Perfect.

Where's my phone?

Here it is,
666-2013,
hello...

Today at 12?

Perfect.

Honey,
I'll be back,
trying something new today...

Excuse me sir,
how high
does this balloon
go?

8,000 feet?

Perfect.

Do you think anybody can
survive?

The fall.

No?

Perfect.

I'll see you miserable fucks
in my next life,
when I'm famous
and beautiful and
rich.

The way I was meant to live.

The Voice

It's strange the way people
talk
to themselves.

They listen
to what they say,
but not really.

They put themselves down
everyday.

It doesn't register,
until
someone else
says the exact same thing.

The words hit them.

Hard.

They don't like it.

They get angry.

Furious.

They fight back.

An explosion
of rage
flies out.

They feel good,
standing up for themselves.

They should.

The next day, however,
they're back at it.

Their voices
stronger.

They say nothing.

No rage,
no pride,
just silence.

Letting their voice
eat away
at their happiness,
their dreams,
their lives
and wonder
what happened,

Not knowing,
the strongest force
in this universe:

Their voice.

I'm Staying

Her neck grew out
longer than
her arms.

Her skin
began to burn
uncontrollably.

I was doing
everything
I could for her,
but nothing worked.

Everybody noticed her
diseased skin
and deformed
neck.

They asked me
why
I'm still
with her.

Leave her.

She's holding you back.

You can do
soooo
much better
than her.

She's changing you.

What's wrong with you?

Nothing.

I love her.

I love her skin.

I love all of her flaws.

They're all I see
and I don't mind.

She doesn't mind either.

We live without any worries,
why are you
so concerned about
us?

Are we somehow
making
your life
worse?

Do us a favor
and stay out
of our business.

We'll be just fine
without you.

Perhaps,
even better.

Is that
clear enough for you?

Good.

I have to go
and rub ointment
on her skin
and massage
her neck.

ER Talk

They're barbecuing my grandpa's eyeball.

What?

He was squirting blood
everywhere,
so they have to burn it
to stop the bleeding.

I have methadone
if he wants some.

I'll ask him,
why are you here?

My teeth are falling out.
They hurt so fucking bad.

Maybe it's you
who needs methadone.

I took a vicodin
and I have a valium
when that wears out.

You're all set,
I guess.

Yeah, but it still
hurts.

You have insurance?

Yes,
but not dental.

Say goodbye to your teeth.

Jessie,
is Jessie here?

Right here.
Listen man,
nice talking to you.
If you need any
weed or meth or methadone,
let me know.

Sure dude,
thanks.

Take care.

You too.

On the Side of the Road

Here's the keys.

You can have them.

You can
control
my life.

I'm tired of it.

I'm tired of hearing that
you know
what's best
for me,
I'm tired of hearing that
you know
the right
answer.

Have the fucking keys.

Shut the fuck up
and drive.

Things will be
a lot
easier.

Keep driving
until you find
someone else
you can
control
and leave me
on the side of the road.

Where I belong.

Eliminating Darkness

The sun didn't rise today.

It forgot about us.

The darkness didn't.

It's
addicted
to us.

It wants our souls.

To eat our
precious
happiness
alive.

To suck up
our smiles
and spit
back out
waste.

To make us
believe
the sun
will never
rise
again.

But it will take
a millennia of shadows
to stop us.

We are indestructible.

We
have the power
to destroy
the darkness.

To shit
on its face
and remove it
from the sky.

We don't even
have to try.

We'll just breathe
and the wind from
our
breath
will do
the rest.

The sun will rise.

Simple as that.

The End of The Road

Somewhere
someone's
searching.

For love,
for a fight,
for peace,
for a father,
for nothing,
numbness.

I'm searching too.

I'm lost
in a maze
of my own
clouded
judgement.

It feels as if
I know everything,
but I know
I know
nothing.

Nothing.

That's what I should be
searching for.

It's so easy.

It's time to give up.

Call in the bloodhounds.

The search is over.

It's time to appreciate
the smallest, greatest
wonder
in the world:
LIFE.

Just An Idea

She's the nicest
racist
I've ever met.

She once gave me
20 bucks,
with tears
in her eyes
just because
I was
working hard.

That same night,
she was talking to me about how
a black girl
got in front of her
and blocked her view
at a concert
20 years ago.

She's still
holding a grudge.

Still.

Seems
ridiculous
to me.

But,
there's no judgement
here.

She's taught me
invaluable lessons
like how to enjoy
where you're at
instead of
being miserable.

Now,
partly because of her,
I have fun
at work.

I never thought
I'd every say that
and I've got
the nicest racist
I've ever met
to thank for this.

Who knows
where
my next life lesson
might come from?

Maybe a blind albino
might
teach me how to
bird watch
and the miracle behind their
flight.

Maybe...

I just have to be
open
to it.

Maybe you should
too...

It beats keeping yourself
in a
self loathing
misery camp.

Just an idea.