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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna

I’ve been trying to lose weight and listening to Nine Inch Nails.

You gave me chocolate food
you gave me super-great food
You let me masticate food
you let me complicate food
Help me! I broke apart my breadsticks
help me! I’ve got no soup to sell
Help me! the only thing that works for me
help me get a plate for myself
I want to feed you like an animal
I want to see you eating inside
I want to feed you like an animal
My whole existence is slaw
You get me toast or hot dogs

nin
somevelvetmornin

Meh

metacognizant:

Life is a beautiful thing.

Now allow me to be cynical for a minute. Sometimes, when I’m done with my shift, and I’m ready to go home, I sit and think about the day that has just passed. “Today was my life,” I think to myself. The day before was my life too. To be honest with you, I’m so sick of the routine.

I want to abandon my life; run away from my life. I want to break free of the invisible chains holding me back, keeping me on track. It’s boring. I feel like I’ve been programmed.

When I was 18, I envisioned my future. It wasn’t anything specific or detailed; just broad strokes. I knew I wanted to be happy. Here I am, smack dab in the middle of adulthood. It’s strange, because, while I’m mostly happy, I hate everything. I’m dissatisfied.

Is this what I have to look forward to? For the next 40 years, I’m just supposed to go to work, pay bills, sit in traffic, deal with people I don’t want to talk to, tune completely out during the 5-day work week, and long for the weekend, where I can finally be myself?

This sucks. This can’t be life. This can’t be the adulthood I wished for when I was stuck in the other routine of going to school, writing reports, taking tests, working summer jobs, and longing for the weekend, where I could finally be myself.

I don’t know what I want to do. I just know that I don’t want to continue this pattern until I die.

I came up with a new game-show idea recently. It’s called The Old Game. You got three old guys with loaded guns onstage. They look back at their lives, see who they were, what they accomplished, how close they came to realizing their dreams. The winner is the one who doesn’t blow his brains out. He gets a refrigerator. 

somevelvetmornin Source: metacognizant