Sunday, November 13, 2011

Define Stupidity - Part 2.

Source: http://www.cruzine.com/2010/09/21/funny-faces/
- THIS IS ME. ARE YOU READY?
Roses are red. Violets are blue. If you hurt him bad, I'm gonna kill you.

I'm serious.
Just kidding, bitch.

Nah, I'm tired. I don't wanna talk to you. I'll just talk to someone who isn't sure if I really exist, but knows how stupid I am.

Already read the part one? Oh, not you, bitch. Him. Her. Or whosoever reading this. So go away, bitch. And for him, her, or whosoever reading this shit, read the part one first. Then you'll have the idea.

Now the bitch is gone and you have the idea already, let's begin.

I tried to forget his big eyes, his eyeglasses, his hypnotizing laugh, his encouraging words, and everything that's all about that kid. But try is only trying, and it doesn't mean it will work out.

Absolutely, it didn't. Obviously, nothing happened. It seems like I'm stuck in a hole because I'm too fat. I tried to diet, but because I love eating, instead of becoming slim I grew bigger and bigger and bigger like an elephant. Now, I'm not only stuck, but  I can already feel the pain of being stuck. More eating will make me explode like a bomb of fat.

The analogy? I tried to forget that kid but because I'm hard-headed I became indulged to him more and more. Now I feel this damn pain in my cardiovascular shit and more addiction will make it explode like a bomb of gross flesh and blood.

I need a rehabilitation.

Once upon a time, in a silent sidewalk with the road on the right and trees on the other side, my feet were racing to each other. Left, right, left, right, then tap! Some bastard tapped me on my shoulder. Suddenly, I realized it's him, and there he was again, with his heart-melting smile and sparkling eyes, started the conversation. Then we talked, and talked, and talked, and talked, and talked, and talked, and *ring!* There goes a phone call. Yea, that bitch called. It seems like your watching a suspense movie and the entire film is exciting your ass out and there comes the climax until... Ting! Brownout. Fuck yea.

Honestly, on that moment I wanna grab his phone, throw it in the air, and sing "I throw your cellphone on the air up high, saying a-yo, no more asshole..." (Dynamite by Taio Cruz tune, for those derps who didn't get it.)

Escaping prolongs the pain. Accepting is a torture. But, this may hurt you a googolplex times at first, but soon, at a minimum of a microsecond, the damn pain will fade just like vapors in the air.

A creature, in order to survive, needs to adapt in its stupid desolated environment.

And that's what I did. I tried to accept and adapt the fucking fact. But maybe I'm too weak for that shit. That's why here I am, still suspended in my stupid fucking damn feelings.

And the moment of truth arrived.

One, cloudy and windy late afternoon, I was alone, walking and enjoying my favorite ice cream. And in a minute of enjoying the heavenly taste of vanilla in my tongue, my eyes captured something excruciating.

Two hands holding each other, four feet walking together, four eyes staring each other, two lips smiling, and two heads that should be decapitated.

And the ice cream cone was crushed in my hand. The white sticky cream poured in my hand through the damn ground.

Shoot. Bang. Drop. You're dead. I wish.

And your big black eyes noticed the stupid me.

You smiled. I smiled. Fuck the mask in me.

Oh wait, yes, after all those stupid moments that were bashed in my face, here I am, still hoping, and waiting, and expecting. Never say die, even though my being was already rotten.

You should water me, Mr. Gardener.

Hahaha. I'm insane. And stupid, by the way.

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