Try to fix something. Get frustrated. Break it even more.
You think it is okay but it is not okay. You wake up in the morning and there are grass clippings in your veins. There is a yellow school bus for your children to ride, cracked pavement for them to fall and scrape their knees, band-aids to cover up their wounds. Your house has a doorbell that sounds like the ding of your microwave. When you have trouble sleeping you take your Labrador Jake for a walk. On the Fourth of July you tie a bandanna around Jake’s neck and take him to the park with the kids. He runs away when the fireworks start because he is frightened. How many groceries can you fit into your car? More than your neighbor? How much unused sports equipment can you fit into your garage? Your wife has more pairs of sweatpants than you do. But that will all change soon. There is a sale on Men’s Wear at Sear’s this weekend.
Try to fix something. Get frustrated. Break it even more.
But there’s a bad man in everyone no matter who we are, there’s a rapist and a Nazi living in our tiny hearts. Child pornographers and cannibals and politicians too - there’s someone in your head waiting to fucking strangle you.
There’s more to life than just not waking up
(via bunniesandkolalas)
I saw my son at seventeen, the shutters made projections on his naked frame. And now at twenty-five he simply cannot stay away from the ketamine. With make-up on his sores he spends an hour a day composing little eulogies. Sometimes he sends me letters but they’re mostly garbled phrases and apologies