Luxury of meaning, I’m just trying to survive.

It’s not the bad things. It’s the long knowing that the bad things won’t stop coming.

Speak for me.

There’s this bit from a Jimmy Eat World song I like. Take it all back, take the first, the last, the only. Take it all back, take it all back, everything you showed me. This must be how it feels.

Wait, why can’t she go swimming?

If you run a lot, you likely dismiss the first burst of euphoria. It’s fleeting and does nothing but signal the oncoming pain. But what if the pain never comes, and you run and run, sweetly forever?

The suit ran by me and out the door to the car. Chasing right behind, the blond yelled. Over screeching tires came the parting words, “Business is business, bitch!”

More and more, I distrust people of a sort who like to talk a lot. You can tell they really like hearing the sound of their own voice. It’s like the guy from the Freakonomics podcast. He’s practically like, tonguing himself the entire time. It comes up a lot during meetings at work too, particular when the higher ups get going. Everyone has to sit there and listen to the buzz. I used to just tune them out, but lately, it makes me angry.

Nice people rock because it’s hard to be nice. Not only do they have to be nice, they also have to put up with shit other people give nice people about them finishing last and being pushovers and all that. Go nice people!

The only weapon left is indifference. They can’t win if you don’t care.