Post by Cassidy on Apr 30, 2022 21:22:59 GMT
And it is a new life. A new me. I moved apartments, away from where anyone would have a clue where to find me. I dumped any of my old gear in the dumpster, including whatever Daystar gave me. It is where it properly belongs. Yeah, I'm an asshole. And I'm tired of pretending I'm not. Because that is not going to ever change about me, is it? I accept it and move on.
Half of humanity's quotes and songs are about that. Moving on. I really hate that. Can we go without a love song or a break up song? Can we stop making all the mainstream music be the top 40 best hits and go for the other stuff? Hell, there are some good ass songs about bravery or life or anything else and yet we fixate on this one thing. When did our quality in life drop so low to this?
I'm fucking rambling. I hate talking. Just in general. Irks the hell out of me to hear my own voice, much less watch my own lips move. I'm a one-liner and dip person. I don't like facing problems or issues. Shocking, right? Me the former superhero. Honestly, you have to force yourself to care so much in that sort of position, right? No one actually cares. They'll just be filled with guilt and regret if they do nothing. Heroism is selfish.
So, I'll hand in my excuse as to why I shouldn't be involved and I'm out of there. Unless I have to deal with it. Like, really have to.
Anyway, I'm twenty-two now. Life is great. At least, I try to emulate that hopeful look in my little green eyes but that is a no-go. My hair is growing out a bit. Black but messy and starting to curl to the sides a little. I do not think I'll try and keep that regular short trim. More a medium length. So I can whip it about a little when I pretend sing in the shower. I even do little solos as my fingers pinch and squeeze on that imaginary pick.
That sounds a bit wrong, right? This is why I hate talking. I overanalyze what others say and what I say. Not even a dirty mind think. I can't stop thinking, even when I wish I could. Books say it is a hundred thoughts at once. Nah, it is more like a river. It's like . . . I don't know. Analogies would be more my thing if I was any good at them. It is like swimming in the same spot but you get fresh water every time. Something new. And new. And new. Those thoughts coming in again and again. Not the same but going and going.
I don't know. Like I said, I suck at those. Writing. Talking. All of the above.
Also, did I ever learn how to play an actual guitar? Add that to the bucket list, I guess. I love to dance. I don't even care if someone sees me or I got the hips of grandma or some shit. Dancing keeps you young. Did you know that? I read it on one of those store-bought letters. Sounds about right. Certainly much more profound than anything Confucius or Buddha ever said. Aristotle could use some lightening up and should have talked about that.
Alright, alright. Rambling. Again. I guess I am really pouring my heart out here, even the weird stuff. Part of me wants to feel disgusted or cringe. I wish this was a shitpost. Can't believe I'm writing this.
I'm supposed to put at least one positive thing down. Well, I haven't lost my good looks and charm. That . . . sounds narcisitic and too assholey. Doc said to put whatever comes to mind. That was it. Might be a self-defense mechanism. Wait, I got a positive. I was able to grab myself some microwavable macaroni and cheese. I love those boxes of gooey goodness. I don't care if it is trash food. Best boxes of microwavables I ever had.
Okay, time for one negative thing I would like to improve or get over. Well, I nearly lost my mind a few times. I'm not in the clear exactly. But I would like to get past that. Get better. I mean, after all, I have enough depressants and anti-anxiety pills to make it party time for anyone. Or just an overdose. Yeah, I don't do the whole humor thing anymore. Not since I dropped the mask. The Nano-Sym is gone. Even whatever residue it or Bloodsport left in my DNA is gone. Don't worry. I made sure with the best scientists and doctors available at Millennium. They tend to be understanding if there might be a giant threat in your bloodstream. Either both of their respective grips on me, in the physical sense at least, is gone or they both are dead.
I like to think the latter. And I think it will stay that way.
Half of humanity's quotes and songs are about that. Moving on. I really hate that. Can we go without a love song or a break up song? Can we stop making all the mainstream music be the top 40 best hits and go for the other stuff? Hell, there are some good ass songs about bravery or life or anything else and yet we fixate on this one thing. When did our quality in life drop so low to this?
I'm fucking rambling. I hate talking. Just in general. Irks the hell out of me to hear my own voice, much less watch my own lips move. I'm a one-liner and dip person. I don't like facing problems or issues. Shocking, right? Me the former superhero. Honestly, you have to force yourself to care so much in that sort of position, right? No one actually cares. They'll just be filled with guilt and regret if they do nothing. Heroism is selfish.
So, I'll hand in my excuse as to why I shouldn't be involved and I'm out of there. Unless I have to deal with it. Like, really have to.
Anyway, I'm twenty-two now. Life is great. At least, I try to emulate that hopeful look in my little green eyes but that is a no-go. My hair is growing out a bit. Black but messy and starting to curl to the sides a little. I do not think I'll try and keep that regular short trim. More a medium length. So I can whip it about a little when I pretend sing in the shower. I even do little solos as my fingers pinch and squeeze on that imaginary pick.
That sounds a bit wrong, right? This is why I hate talking. I overanalyze what others say and what I say. Not even a dirty mind think. I can't stop thinking, even when I wish I could. Books say it is a hundred thoughts at once. Nah, it is more like a river. It's like . . . I don't know. Analogies would be more my thing if I was any good at them. It is like swimming in the same spot but you get fresh water every time. Something new. And new. And new. Those thoughts coming in again and again. Not the same but going and going.
I don't know. Like I said, I suck at those. Writing. Talking. All of the above.
Also, did I ever learn how to play an actual guitar? Add that to the bucket list, I guess. I love to dance. I don't even care if someone sees me or I got the hips of grandma or some shit. Dancing keeps you young. Did you know that? I read it on one of those store-bought letters. Sounds about right. Certainly much more profound than anything Confucius or Buddha ever said. Aristotle could use some lightening up and should have talked about that.
Alright, alright. Rambling. Again. I guess I am really pouring my heart out here, even the weird stuff. Part of me wants to feel disgusted or cringe. I wish this was a shitpost. Can't believe I'm writing this.
I'm supposed to put at least one positive thing down. Well, I haven't lost my good looks and charm. That . . . sounds narcisitic and too assholey. Doc said to put whatever comes to mind. That was it. Might be a self-defense mechanism. Wait, I got a positive. I was able to grab myself some microwavable macaroni and cheese. I love those boxes of gooey goodness. I don't care if it is trash food. Best boxes of microwavables I ever had.
Okay, time for one negative thing I would like to improve or get over. Well, I nearly lost my mind a few times. I'm not in the clear exactly. But I would like to get past that. Get better. I mean, after all, I have enough depressants and anti-anxiety pills to make it party time for anyone. Or just an overdose. Yeah, I don't do the whole humor thing anymore. Not since I dropped the mask. The Nano-Sym is gone. Even whatever residue it or Bloodsport left in my DNA is gone. Don't worry. I made sure with the best scientists and doctors available at Millennium. They tend to be understanding if there might be a giant threat in your bloodstream. Either both of their respective grips on me, in the physical sense at least, is gone or they both are dead.
I like to think the latter. And I think it will stay that way.