10:36pm – Sorry Ass

PROVE IT, HERMY……

If ever, this would be a time we need to prove it.  Prove that I am human.  Prove that I can do more than snap, bitch, and gripe.  Prove that I have a heart.  Prove that I am worth more than snail shit.

I don’t know why, but every night at around this time, I come out (Piers), and I am depressed these days.

Some of this is bound to be my own fault. It would help if I could identify what part of it is my fault.  It would also help if Mikey and Lola would pretend to be courteous about my fucking hearing difficulty.  I hate myself as it is, and then they agg it on more by muttering things that I can’t hear.  When I ask them to repeat it, they mutter again.

Teach them to project properly.  Also, maybe we can somehow teach Lola how to modulate her voice when she gets all loud monotone shit.  I am listening to Amazing Grace.  The one Barbara did.  I am the wretch, not her.  I wonder if God wants to save me, too.  He keeps me afloat, I have to admit.  I just feel unworthy of any love.

So

Life goes on.  I’ll be depressed, because it saves trouble if I shoulder it all and don’t insist that Jack or Betty take on the responsibility.  They have their own responsibilities, in which I take no part.

All I want to do is croak.  I already know I can’t, but that doesn’t stop the desire.  I’ll live, though.  Can’t kill everyone in one fell swoop.

Outta here,

Piers