expletive, fragments

Fucking indecision

There! I said it! I don’t fucking want to be here anymore, and yes, I know, it was my choice to begin with. But that’s beside the point. And it’s like they say, pick your fucking poison. Make you bed and fucking sleep in it. Whatever crappy saying there’s to talk about this works I guess.
But to hell with it. It just doesn’t make any sense. It makes me feel miserable, all day, miserable, you know? And like, I was just lying there and I had a big moment of clarity. There’s no point in me doing all of this, I just don’t see myself here anymore, don’t picture myself doing any of it. I would, if they let me, but nothing more. Like, remember Tim and the burn out thing? That was heavy. For him mostly, for us, if you remember correctly, we didn’t give a damn. And we should have. That’s on us. But I guess, I’m sure I feel the same way. Maybe. I haven’t talked to him about it, but the way I see it, he left ’cause he felt fucking unhappy, you know?

Right. But he also left because he could. Can you? What’s stopping you from walking just now?

I don’t know, man. Fear, I guess. What am I gonna do afterwards? That’s the main deal with all of this. I can’t very well say, right on guys, screw it, until next time, and just go home to sit on my hands while not getting any cash. That would be totally counter-productive.

Totally.

But yeah I guess, I’ll just round up this fucking year. I bumped into Donald earlier this week, he and Betty were having coffee, talking about a number of things they had planned for us. Now let me preface this by saying I’d had a shit fucking day, like really terrible. So, like, I walk up to them and I go, like, right fellas, I’m peacing out after this because this is getting ridiculous. So we chat a little bit, and you know how they are, they try to blow smoke up your face.

Right.

They were like, oh I disagree. Can’t you see that after all of this you’ll be the hottest commodity we have to offer? You gotta keep going, it’ll pay off, or whatever general statement they like to use. They were throwing those out like an Irish dude with potatoes, and all it did was making me feel even more uncomfortable. How do I fucking explain to people that I don’t fucking think that I should be here?

Yeah, tough I guess but …

And you see that’s the thing. I can’t fucking phrase my fucking feelings. And even Mark was like, dude, you gotta stop complaining; you gotta stop say fuck in every sentence you utter. This is a goddamn respectable place dude, you gotta work up your language. And I was like, man, you’re right, this is fucking respectable place, whatever, I don’t want to be a part of it. And you know what, yeah, I say fuck a lot, that’s the English language, it’s expressive, I might as well use it, full scope. He had nothing to say. I’m not even sure he understands what full scope means. But anyhow, yeah the irony in all of that is it’s not THAT expressive, ’cause I can’t fucking put what I feel into words. The way I see it I’m standing somewhere between, I don’t belong here, I don’t want to be here, and it’s still interesting sometimes, I kinda want to see what happens next, you know?

Indecision.

Fucking indecision.

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