Sleeping behind the fridge; an odyssey.
Existential despair like a censored NWA album.
Pick-up line consisting of circling the point of a knife around a belly button while ear-whispering 'what's your sign, little girl?'
The naked aggression that blossoms every time I hear a white person refer to their circle of friends as a 'tribe.'
Existential despair like the bottomless breadsticks at olive garden.
Almost dying in a car accident and immediately thinking 'damn, next time!'
Standing underneath a tree during a rain storm and envisioning your disembodied head floating slowly through the black universe.
Overwhelming alienation that happens more intensely while alone, then when in the shadow of another.
Feeling the most lonely while in the company of a parent.
The unsolved mystery of why dogs have huge mouths and tiny assholes.
Bouquet of daisies with a card that says 'you fucking suck'.
Life like fish farts in an chinese restaurant aquarium.
Much love to the person that provided an example of unconditional love for me to learn by. Without you, I'd have never made it this far or this strong.
Plucking a blown kiss from the air, clutching it against your heart, then frantically running underneath the moving wheels of a freightliner.
Using the ceiling like a blanket and sleeping through the loneliness.
Having just enough remaining intelligence to realize how intelligent you used to be.
Seeing a pair of shoes hanging from a power line and thinking, 'if only I could get my neck up there.'
A superhero like immunity to jealousy that's tied to the belief that every person would ultimately be better without you.
The body as a suit of armor, but instead of protecting you, it just laughs.
Flying a kite by attaching a string around your torso and jumping off a roof.
The days when you ditched school to avoid bullies and wandered to unknown parts of the city, then as an adult, realizing those are the only days worth remembering.
Being productive only during times of intense sadness.
Life like a probation officer fingering his nostril on a monday afternoon.
Never feeling accomplished by anything except the few times stuffed animals were rescued with a motorized claw.
Speeding into a tunnel with the hope that you'll never exit out.
Death like a 1970's microwave cookbook from betty crocker.
Life like a cockroach choking to death on the dead skin of a freshly exfoliated foot.
The mental battle that comes whenever a knife is picked up and the strong urge to plunge it into your soft throat materializes.
Boomerang beheadings are making a comeback.
Stock reply for anyone being bombastic or excited where I grin wildly and say 'I'm happy you're happy for your meaningless achievement.'
The weightless feeling that comes after an intense wave of sadness breaks.
The completely justified hatred of bank tellers.
Shout out to all the nipples I have yet to see/pinch/suck.
Time of year when everyone you interact with asks if you're going, or have already gone, to an annual festival where people pretend to be from a harsh ass period in history that resembles nothing like the idiotic joke of live action dungeons and dragons they're engaging in and your consistent response is to intently stare through them as if a leper was trying to explain Chinese arithmetic in German.
Fighting the strong desire to ask someone 'what the fuck is wrong with you' because ultimately it doesn't matter.
Recent lazy mouthbreather trend to remark 'same' after hearing/reading another person's experience as if any two experiences could be identical or the effort needed to vocalize the distinction too strenuous or agitating.
The hunt for vegan barbeque sauce: the plight of the modern black male.
Reoccurring daydream where I flip a light switch, then a monstrous garbage disposal begins to whirr and the entire earth gets sucked down and ground into nothingness.
Honestly waiting for a trend where men grow out their chest/belly hair, then groom it in some whimsical way, like, only leaving the nipples hairy or something really fucking moronic and anti-masculine similar to that.
You are the sum total of your 'cutesy' bullshit.
Heart like a discarded twinkie wrapper floating in a clogged urinal.
Death like the credits at the end of a late night infomercial nobody watched.
I hope when I die a large bird of paradise grows from my corpse and the world becomes a slightly better version of itself.
The perpetual feeling that, regardless of how much effort you've put forth in progressing self-actualization, every social interaction leaves other people emotionally hurt or alienated, and, despite feeling terrible about it, finding the motivation to continue the cycle hoping that one day you'll finally be a complete and psychologically healthy human being who'll initiate a relationship with someone that will end like an episode of 'friends'.
That special type of internal laughter which comes after deflecting someone's banal insult about physical appearance and who then repeats themselves thinking you're self-acceptance isn't real.
Fantasy consisting of filling an oversize wooden bucket with heavy cream and cinnabons, then having naked women bob and try to pluck the mall pastries out with their teeth.
Would like to live out the rest of my life on an abandoned bus in a third world country.
April Fool's has degraded to 'Lazy Tricks for Mouthbreathers by Mouthbreathers Day.'
The 'who is you foundation': a non-profit, outreach organization founded by sam pink and myself that sends retired boxers and mma fighters to elementary schools with the intention of providing a learning experience on the importance of being headstrong, avoiding laziness and whining, and staring through a motherfucker and meaning it.