i've had it with the writer's block
forced complexes to shut up

just keep on writing
to find my tizzights

When you are working on that really important history project, before you can even begin, there is always that one person who asks: "So how much is this worth? How much will this count towards our mark?"

Ugh. Welcome to the Bauer state of mind everybody!

All that matters in life is how successful you are. And as long as your average is a constant 100%, you do not need to worry about anything else.

What a life huh?

These people are the perfect people for office job life. Nothing but numbers, no life, no soul.

Nothing else matters to them.

And singling these people out in high school is the saddest thing, and the most hilarious thing I've done.

Because these people brag at 100% and cry at 99%.

Wait, what?!

How can you not be satisfied with anything less than overdoing it?

I mean, you go on and live your life.

But I'll stay here with a more than satisfactory 85%.

I can work with that.

Throughout our lives we develop our personality and our complicated states of mind.

And yet we still end up believing in our personal causes like it's world law. And sure, that may the most narcissistic thing I can think of right now, but it's my life is it not?

And yes, a lot of what I just said doesn't make complete sense.

So...

Just bare with me.
I just went through hell.
And it takes the bravest and best of us to come back from that.

You may not know what happened to me, so I'll pick apart my psyche so that maybe I can understand what happened to me.

So here we go.

Stick around if you want the details.

Your body like text,
writ in a foreign language;
Something I can't read.

Wrestling my mind,
trying to get my tongue near
the sweet parts of you.

I'm a selfish ****,
and if we both end up hurt
I won't give a ****.

The space between us
too casual anyways.
Too mediocre.

I like to wear tiny shorts
On my big fat ****.
And little tiny tops to make
My ***** look big.
But if I catch you staring at me
And ogling my *******
I’ll suddenly get all proper on you
And call you a pig.

Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder
I run with a very different pack.
So don’t come crying on my shoulder.
I’ll tell you to step your *** back.

I love my hair bleached orange
With lots of dark roots.
I keep it long, and badly cut
Then wear a pony tail.
I walk like a linebacker
On the scrimmage line.
I think I look extremely cool
Like I just got out of jail.

Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder
I run with a very different pack.
So don’t come crying on my shoulder.
I’ll tell you to step your *** back.

If I wear a hat it is a stocking cap
And some boots I stole from a boy.
It all goes well with raccoon eyes;
The makeup makes it work.
I am so **** hot that I am sizzling.
If you object you are jealous.
So, I ignore your comments and sneers.
You must be a bunch of jerks.

Beauty’s in the eye of the beholder
I run with a very different pack.
So don’t come crying on my shoulder.
I’ll tell you to step your *** back.