You were the worst drug that I ever mutha fucking had
I tried it and I tried it again
Don’t know how many times I tried attempting suicide because of your bitch ass but I’m tired of it
You’ve made me my worst
How ugly I’ve become because of you
I’m tired of chasing something that will never come to fruition
I’m so dissatisfied
So unfulfilled
So embarrassed
Because I know better
And yet I persist…


Vintage Kent State Sweatshirt from Urban Outfitters.


I can’t decide if I hate Urban Outfitters because everyone who works there is a complete idiot or because if they’re not idiots, they’re just shamelessly offensive wastes of meat.

The store offered a one-of-a-kind Kent State University sweatshirt splattered with red coloring for $129. The tactless garment is a clear reference to the 1970 killing of four students protesting the Vietnam War by the Army National Guard at the Ohio school.

As of early this morning, the Urban Outfitters website said the item was sold out.


I’m just picturing the conversation as these sweatshirts came out of the boxes.

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This is fucked up.

Man Hater

This is going to be the year
That I stop letting these fucking men
Set me ten steps back, and turn me into an emotional creature.
This is going to be the year that I ride a train,
Take the metro around town for no reason,
Buy a couple of cameras,
Get my grandma to teach me how to make Mexican soul food.
This is going to be the year that I try to self educate on all of the topics I’ve wanted to know more about since I was thirteen,
That I finally seek out the meaning behind all of those references found in literature
That the author just assumed I’d know.
This is going to be the year
that I take time to ponder how good I’ve had it; in spite of all of my struggles
Some have had it much, much worse
And I’ll ask myself what I’m going to do about it.
This has already been the year
That I’ve taken time for tea
That I’ve realized I have a bullshit job, I’m just a paper-pusher
That I’ve drawn nearer to family, especially after the death of my dad, my very first best friend.
That I’ve learned to not be afraid of being alone sometimes
That I’ve started writing again
That I’ve taken time to read more
So I’m off to a good start, no?

What’s the cost of a human life?
It seems as if you don’t have insurance in this country the system would rather force you out,
Not really caring whether you miraculously heal
Or slowly die, as long as you’re not accruing mounds of debt
Which they know you won’t be able to pay.
At which point they begin to see you as another leach
Milking the system dry.
Someone whose debt THEY’LL have to repay
While working long hours at a job they HATE
In a field they only went into because it pays well.
Nothing superb but enough to earn a comfortable living.
The gap between rich and poor is growing and the middle class is disappearing, after all.
The US is no longer the ideal, picturesque country it once was
Back in the fifties, in its heyday
And people like me, sour, poisoned, jaded. Disillusioned.
Full of observations but no real solutions. Knowing the problem is out of control and not wanting any part of it.
Not wanting to participate in mainstream society.
Feeling alienated and helpless.
At what point will we wake up and realize
Money is a man made concept.
Time was invented by man as well.
So who will stand up for the one who is sick, who has nothing
And say, “wake up sheeple! This is a human being we are talking about! “

Love plays fucked up mind tricks, be careful to recognize them.

Do I believe in love?
I’ve certainly experienced the roller coaster of emotions.
The beautiful highs and debilitating lows,
But on an every day basis sometimes I feel kinda stagnant
Until the possibility of losing you seems like it could be a reality
And suddenly I feel alive
It starts with a pang in my stomach
That jolts all the way to my fingertips
It kicks me out of the mundane routine of my life
And reminds me that I am not a robot
A cog in a wheel
But an individual
Eternally attached in some way, shape or form
To another individual
The wonderful heap of a man that is you,
And all your being.
Te quiero, cariño.