My mother arrives today, my absence from the family has been continued at a more rapid rate now, i had fallen asleep in my curry at half past six this evening while watching two and a half men again.
Im not sure why but ashton kutcher doesnt tickle me as frantically as Charlie sheen had previously done so.
He reminds me of my mother dearest, the pompous ninny whistler of whom i was birthed untimely and pulled from normal life as I was unjustly branded an outcast.
My mother did that to me, she showed me the world and teased me with such a glorious image of the outside while we melted on the inside with the same old tedious routine of self hatred fueled and self obsessed nights in with the cats.
With her, everyday was the same, i would clean myself(barely).
Shave my monster cock ( its so inhumanly large).
And put on the sweat and grease coated clothes from the night before.
Then I'd make my way to school, isolating myself from society.
Now that i think, i cannot at all remember my journies to school, it was just a haze of concrete and grass, street after street of the same story, for so long i was trapped in a cage of my own dysmorphia, no fun or friends or pleasure, just a haze of nothingness.
No wonder im so bitter and sour like a chocolate lemon. I prevented myself from any kind of thought or activity that would give me pleasure.
Im psychoanalysing myself for fun, how warped am i exacly?
And why can i only just see clearly, now that im away from my mother? She must have drained me with her constant need for validation.
shit.
WHaT ThE FUck wAss iN ThAt TeA?!
YOU ARE READING
Dont even dare Dy
HumorA young boy who goes by the name of "Noob" goes to Florida to visit his father for the first time. He imagines that his trip will be filled with awkward silences and boring detours around a failing theme park. However when he arrives in his dad's ho...
