I am
bored.
Seriously, I’ve never been this bored in my whole life. Everything is such a drag. For someone who sleeps for less than four hours a day, I find this ironic. For the first time ever, I’m trying to make myself as busy as possible, burying myself in work, doing favors for the people around me. Anything to keep me from thinking about how shallow and hollow everything has become. At the end of an exhausting day, sleep eludes me.
I stepped up the ladder of ranks of my weed dealer. He now delivers my grade at my doorstep. I get so high that my fingertips feel like sand paper on my face.
Still there’s no sense of fulfillment or achievement.
I asked myself what I really want to be in future and getting drunk is the closest I came to an answer. I know alcohol doesn’t solve any problems but hey, neither does orange juice. Much as it gives me a measure of comfort to believe that my life has no meaning, it is also depressing and the anxiety of facing another day terrifies me.
I think back on my teenage life, boy did I have dreams! Some were ambitious, some were intelligent but most were so wrong and so weird that they bordered on raving idiocy. Here are some of them;
I wanted to build a Taj Mahal the size of Rwanda on the roof of the world and call it something that niggers are not readily familiar with. It would be so big that I’d have a caddy by the side of my bed to take me to the bathroom. I would employ the greatest scientists in the world to remove gravity from one of the rooms to make my smoking sessions more interesting.
Imagine getting high while you float in sync with the exhaled smoke.
One of the reasons why you shouldn’t let your 14 year old kid watch 50 Cent videos.
There was this girl I secretly had a crush on. She was so fat that she could carry me in her bra like a kangaroo baby. I never really let her know that I liked her because most of the time we were dissing each other. I hoped that someday I would own a katrillion dollar company to prove my worth and she’d marry me. I would make her the advertising face of my company and put her on all the big billboards in town.
I later realized that I’d have better luck walking to the moon since the closest I ever got to a girl checking me out were the blank stares of mannequins in boutiques.
Most of my dreams revolve(d) around my mum. She’s the only woman who’s ever said out loud that she loves me. Well, a couple of girls have told me that they love me. The truth is, I’ve learnt the hard way that ‘I love you’ does not count especially when the girl is riding reverse cowgirl on your more magical limb. I wanted to buy my mum jerry cans full of jewels and a huge monster truck such that even if she dozed behind the wheel she’d drive right over the smaller cars.
I’d personalize the plates “Arthur’s Mummy” for the whole world to know.
Sadly, we’re both dying – her from old age, me from everything intoxicating.
When I was about fifteen, I wanted my dad to buy me a car. Of course coming from a family of *insert number here* kids, this was very laughable. But I was serious and I hated the old bloke for quite some time. I decided I never wanted to ever drive a car in my entire life. I made up my mind to employ a fleet of hot female models to chauffeur me around town while I smoked expensive cigarettes and talked on the phone with people in my social class like Muammar Qaddafi, Fidel Castro and the President of America.
I used to watch a lot of TV when I was younger despite the fact that there was only one station – UTV. I hated it. But it was the only pass time I had. In fact, if I think real hard, I bet I can remember the first movie I ever watched. I promised myself to trash all the TVs in the world and pile them in a room in my huge mansion like a private collection. I think it was some sort of nerdy rebellion or something, I don’t know.
The first time I ever went to a night club was also the first time I ever went out on a date – if going clubbing counts as a date. I felt the babe was worth all the 40k I’d stolen from my dad’s wallet. Then I found out that she was a special kind of cunt – the worst. We met some guy whom she introduced as her brother. So I start spending my hard-stolen money on these two monkeys only to find them making out in the toilet. Now, I know I wasn’t much of a sight back then but trust me, that needle – dicked moffo was eight leagues my junior. How do I know? ‘Cause Game Rekenize Game and he was not even on the fuckin court yo!
That’s the reason why I’ll only date girls who smoke weed – they have high standards.
I loved travelling, still do. I wanted to become a pilot and hop around continents. I’d stay in hotel rooms and write about the people I meet and the places I go. I hoped I’d write a song for Simple Plan because those guys really understood me. However, the first time I ever wrote, it was a 96 page book about a lame girl who caught AIDS. I must have been sixteen. When I showed it to my dad he said it was ok.
Ok?
What the fuck does that mean? I gave up the writing dream and decided I’d instead buy an island and settle down with my Jamaican girlfriend. She’d teach me badass patois and we’d smoke marijuana, listen to Bob Marley and never answer the phone. Then reality struck and I found out that romantic relationships were simply fuckjobs with a longer spelling.
Suck it up motherfucker. We are not in a relationship. You are on a fuck job.
*
I wish I still had these dreams. Nowadays I am scared of dreaming. My dreams are turning into nightmares. I realize that you cannot always get what you want. You know how you feel like you’ve got everything figured out and a few years later you laugh at what a fool you were. This is why I don’t pray. I hate disappointments. I don’t hope for anything. I wake up in the morning, pay my dues and spend my free time with people I find even mildly interesting.
In the evenings, when the world is silent, I sit on the floor of my dark room, bottle of alcohol in hand and pretend like life isn’t that bad when actually all I need is a good night’s sleep.
I’ll sing you a lullaby, tell me your dreams…or nightmares to be more accurate.
Seriously, I’ve never been this bored in my whole life. Everything is such a drag. For someone who sleeps for less than four hours a day, I find this ironic. For the first time ever, I’m trying to make myself as busy as possible, burying myself in work, doing favors for the people around me. Anything to keep me from thinking about how shallow and hollow everything has become. At the end of an exhausting day, sleep eludes me.
I stepped up the ladder of ranks of my weed dealer. He now delivers my grade at my doorstep. I get so high that my fingertips feel like sand paper on my face.
Still there’s no sense of fulfillment or achievement.
I asked myself what I really want to be in future and getting drunk is the closest I came to an answer. I know alcohol doesn’t solve any problems but hey, neither does orange juice. Much as it gives me a measure of comfort to believe that my life has no meaning, it is also depressing and the anxiety of facing another day terrifies me.
I think back on my teenage life, boy did I have dreams! Some were ambitious, some were intelligent but most were so wrong and so weird that they bordered on raving idiocy. Here are some of them;
I wanted to build a Taj Mahal the size of Rwanda on the roof of the world and call it something that niggers are not readily familiar with. It would be so big that I’d have a caddy by the side of my bed to take me to the bathroom. I would employ the greatest scientists in the world to remove gravity from one of the rooms to make my smoking sessions more interesting.
Imagine getting high while you float in sync with the exhaled smoke.
One of the reasons why you shouldn’t let your 14 year old kid watch 50 Cent videos.
There was this girl I secretly had a crush on. She was so fat that she could carry me in her bra like a kangaroo baby. I never really let her know that I liked her because most of the time we were dissing each other. I hoped that someday I would own a katrillion dollar company to prove my worth and she’d marry me. I would make her the advertising face of my company and put her on all the big billboards in town.
I later realized that I’d have better luck walking to the moon since the closest I ever got to a girl checking me out were the blank stares of mannequins in boutiques.
Most of my dreams revolve(d) around my mum. She’s the only woman who’s ever said out loud that she loves me. Well, a couple of girls have told me that they love me. The truth is, I’ve learnt the hard way that ‘I love you’ does not count especially when the girl is riding reverse cowgirl on your more magical limb. I wanted to buy my mum jerry cans full of jewels and a huge monster truck such that even if she dozed behind the wheel she’d drive right over the smaller cars.
I’d personalize the plates “Arthur’s Mummy” for the whole world to know.
Sadly, we’re both dying – her from old age, me from everything intoxicating.
When I was about fifteen, I wanted my dad to buy me a car. Of course coming from a family of *insert number here* kids, this was very laughable. But I was serious and I hated the old bloke for quite some time. I decided I never wanted to ever drive a car in my entire life. I made up my mind to employ a fleet of hot female models to chauffeur me around town while I smoked expensive cigarettes and talked on the phone with people in my social class like Muammar Qaddafi, Fidel Castro and the President of America.
I used to watch a lot of TV when I was younger despite the fact that there was only one station – UTV. I hated it. But it was the only pass time I had. In fact, if I think real hard, I bet I can remember the first movie I ever watched. I promised myself to trash all the TVs in the world and pile them in a room in my huge mansion like a private collection. I think it was some sort of nerdy rebellion or something, I don’t know.
The first time I ever went to a night club was also the first time I ever went out on a date – if going clubbing counts as a date. I felt the babe was worth all the 40k I’d stolen from my dad’s wallet. Then I found out that she was a special kind of cunt – the worst. We met some guy whom she introduced as her brother. So I start spending my hard-stolen money on these two monkeys only to find them making out in the toilet. Now, I know I wasn’t much of a sight back then but trust me, that needle – dicked moffo was eight leagues my junior. How do I know? ‘Cause Game Rekenize Game and he was not even on the fuckin court yo!
That’s the reason why I’ll only date girls who smoke weed – they have high standards.
I loved travelling, still do. I wanted to become a pilot and hop around continents. I’d stay in hotel rooms and write about the people I meet and the places I go. I hoped I’d write a song for Simple Plan because those guys really understood me. However, the first time I ever wrote, it was a 96 page book about a lame girl who caught AIDS. I must have been sixteen. When I showed it to my dad he said it was ok.
Ok?
What the fuck does that mean? I gave up the writing dream and decided I’d instead buy an island and settle down with my Jamaican girlfriend. She’d teach me badass patois and we’d smoke marijuana, listen to Bob Marley and never answer the phone. Then reality struck and I found out that romantic relationships were simply fuckjobs with a longer spelling.
Suck it up motherfucker. We are not in a relationship. You are on a fuck job.
*
I wish I still had these dreams. Nowadays I am scared of dreaming. My dreams are turning into nightmares. I realize that you cannot always get what you want. You know how you feel like you’ve got everything figured out and a few years later you laugh at what a fool you were. This is why I don’t pray. I hate disappointments. I don’t hope for anything. I wake up in the morning, pay my dues and spend my free time with people I find even mildly interesting.
In the evenings, when the world is silent, I sit on the floor of my dark room, bottle of alcohol in hand and pretend like life isn’t that bad when actually all I need is a good night’s sleep.
I’ll sing you a lullaby, tell me your dreams…or nightmares to be more accurate.
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