All I see are signs telling me why nothing works.

(How I melodramatically felt about life tonight.)

“I don’t put energy into things that I don’t think will work out.”

“Right, who does?”

“Well, I don’t feel like this is going to work out though.

You know?”

Now for you: I feel like a broken toilet (analogy of the night coming on) that no one knows is out of order. (Whatever that means. It did mean something when I thought it up.) I honestly see the toilet here, with the shit All Over, all I need to do is Fix The Pipes, and everything else’ll fall into place. (Oh, that’s what it meant.)

I don’t have what it takes to fix anything by myself. I mean that, I feel that. I could clean up the shit, mind you, but the shit builds up rather quickly when there’s no sign telling them not to, understand?

Ignorance is truly bliss in this case.

You won’t just flush this. You won’t just move away from this. The pipes will still be broken, the shit’ll fly just as fast out of their asses.

So, what I need is either some real good Pepto-Bismol or maybe I just need some fucking Drano.

(Or how about a pen and paper saying “broken”?) No, I still want them to sit down and talk to me. I need company. And, if they don’t notice the shit, what makes you think they’ll notice a little dinky piece of paper? (The color of white will stand out from the general populous of the color brown around them parts.) You’re right, but still, let’s fix this fucker and get it over with. (I’ll go with that, that’s fine.)

Hey, wait…I may need a wrench.

And that is why I am a pessimistic writer right now. A lot of my friends seem to have gas a lot.