bullshit

ten things i know with certainty

1. Nobody really gives a shit about the thing you’re anxious or insecure about, so relax and keep on. Your new haircut looks fine, as does that sweater.

2. Be nice to servers, customer service and your bus driver. Nobody likes a cunt.

3. The ocean and mountains will kill you- you have to respect them. Do so by staying completely away, or at the very least pack some layers and a granola bar.

4. Empathetic and understanding are two of the best things you can be.

5. If you have a shitty heart, things will be shitty.

6. If after you turn 30 years old you can still eat cheese mid-day and go about your business unhindered- call it a win.

7. “Talk shit, get hit.”

8. Walking is still honest.

9. You can totally judge a book by its cover, because that’s where they put the pull-quotes and reviews that will tell you whether or not the book will be of suitable enjoyment to you. But that applies to books and books alone.

10. Drink lots of water.

sonnets for suckers

Are you who you want to be?

I mean at this very moment- right now, not tomorrow, not next week after you hear back about that promotion, car loan, that new jacket that you want but don’t really need but might go on sale during Easter weekend so why not, right? Are you who you want to be? Before what happens next- between the hours at sleep and the hours at work. You’re already thinking of that thing, yeah*? And once you have it or hold it or feel it or experience it, you’re just so god damn certain that it will provide a completeness that otherwise falls apart under prolonged scrutiny.  Will it finally satiate those tremors of jealousy that itch the back of your throat when you scroll through other people’s cherry-picked musings and snaps on social media? And does recognizing that you’re having those feelings bother you more than Julie’s album of her fifth fucking trip to Mexico? The one she uploaded like the goddamn second she got off the plane and found WiFi?  I mean she makes decent money so good for her- have fun, I guess- but go visit another fucking country, right?! You’re 38 years old and half Italian- go to Italy, Julie!  Christ. Or at least take photos of more than just your 9AM margaritas and the guy who fell asleep next to you on the plane. (And while we’re on the subject, those panoramic shots of you staring out at sea that you post every couple of days make you look like a fucking cunt, Brad**. Knock it off!)

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grand theft whatever

I wish we could keep score. A running total of miscellaneous data to analyze, reflect on and ponder. Imagine:

Times cursed
Hats worn
Most pain felt (physical)
Most pain felt (emotional)
Hugs given

Would you be able to find patterns? Would you want to?

Hearts broken
Number of scars
Cars driven
Cars stolen
Times you heard AC/DC come on the radio, said”Awe, fuck AC/DC,” and then changed the station

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