Scrawl on the Wall 021

Don't ask me to be your happy nice person; I can't do that sort of thing.
I am one bleak motherfucker.

I am going to sit here in a black t-shirt, and black jeans, and drink black coffee and think longingly of suicide.

I will sniff the black roses and read books by dead French philosophers and smile inwardly to myself as I imagine you falling off a cliff.

The Germans call it schaudenfreud but I think I will just call it fun.

Sometimes, I look into myself, and there is the abyss.

So I stare at the abyss.

And damn... it's abyssy.

And then, I get really bored, because abysses tend to be sort of dull when you get right down to it.

So I imagine something painful, and horrible, and disgusting happening to people I don't like, and then I get a brief smirk and feel like eating an oatmeal raisin cookie.

I love oatmeal raisin cookies

Especially with cinnamon

So life isn't all miserable.

I can shove these cookies into my pockets, eat them later, and no one will ever notice.

Maybe these stupid group sessions will have a use for me after all.