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Aug 2014
Words can't express the emptiness that is hopelessness. It's something that you wouldn't wish upon your worst enemy's worst enemy.

Wait, your worst enemy's worst enemy would probably be a really good friend to have. Then you could sit around together and plot ways to **** with your common enemy's head.

Like sneaking into their house every day and emptying all the bottles of shampoo. Not the conditioner. Not the body wash or shower gel. Just the shampoo. Every day. Every bottle. No matter how many bottles they buy to replace the ones you've wasted. All the shampoo gone. Just gone. Every day.

Try and imagine what lengths they would go to trying to find out what happened to all the **** shampoo. Four empty bottles sitting right where they'd been placed when they were full, now without a drop of hope of being able to wash, rinse, and repeat.

No hope of being able to lather up and wash away the built-up residue of the day's grimy, polluted, filth infested air breathed out by the uncaring populous that attached itself from the follicle to the unsplit end of every perfectly thick and just right wavy hair on your worst enemy's head.

Maybe they'll lose sleep over it and then have dark rings around the bulbous bags under their usually twinkling and happy hazel eyes for a day or two. All the time just wondering what in the hell happened to all the **** shampoo.

Anyway, if you can't find the words to express hopelessness, at least maybe you can find someone with a common enemy to sit around with and think of ways to try and fill the emptiness.
Dana Taylor
Written by
Dana Taylor  California
     Dana Taylor, ryann and ---
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