HI EMILY!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jobless

What's the world comming to? A 20 year old man who's just starting out on his own, flying the nest for the first time in his life, can't find a job anywhere.

I've got work experience in factories and mills, and they don't even bother to call me? I've been studied in the journalism feild and been in college for two years. And I haven't even gotten an interview. Instead they hire the 16-year-old dumbshit kid who doesn't even care that much about the job. That person who would spend all their time hanging out with their friends in the woods behind the school, smoking pot and getting coked up.

Or the girl who spends all her time talking to her friends on her cellphone talking about clothes, what stars are hot and using their daddy's credit card to buy stuff for her horse which her parents pay someone to take care of.

Those are the people that get hired? Fuck my Life.

Once Again

Here we are sitting in the same old chair doing the same old thing. Not really accomplishing anything. I look around the room and there's not a trace or sign of anything from the old days when we would sit around and chat and make sexual comments about people who may or may not be there. The computer has someone else's name on it. The desk has been cleaned off. The files that I had so carefully stuffed in the drawer are gone. All the notes and files are gone. It's no longer about to burst open, spilling the knowledge from my past out onto the floor.
I don't belong here.
The halls seem different. There is a new life to them. Different from the one I'm used to. Like stepping into someone else's newly cleaned house. I don't want to touch anything because I fear I'll dirty it.
I don't belong here. These aren't my halls. I am not welcomed. I am not a part of this life anymore. I am lonely.

A New Poem

I feel like a dog trying to please its master.
I do everything she asks and do my best to please her with a smile on my face.
Sometimes it's fun.
I watch her as she lies there naked, sleeping. Longing, but not lusting. It's past that. Just wanting her affection.
Asking her to take my hand, wanting her to accept my love, begging her to need me and want me.
Asking her to love me.
But she doesn't.
I only entertain until a new dog comes to take my place. To lay by her side.
I love her...
I love her...
I love her...

Understanding

Truth Justice and pizza! It's the American way.

Da Da Da Da

It's considered a sin by many. In the heat of passionate romance you can find yourself swept away like a little leaf in the wind. But these days no one really cares if you do it or not. Only your parents. Just a little. Not even enough. Only a bit. Almost there. Wait for it. And... Done.
Then you wonder why it mattered. Why did nobody want you to play Resident Evil in the first place. You won't have nightmares. At least not too many.

Something about Everything

Now here's a question that many people would want answered.

Is it better to know a little bit about everything or is it better to know something in-depth?
There is no right answer to this question. Why? Because even the answers it gives you are wrong.

I would much rather know everything about everything, or at the very least, pretend to know everything about everything. It applies to Journalism too. You have to pretend to be an expert even when you know you're not.

Hockey Stick

I have a hockey stick I never use any more.
It sits in my room near the corner, tucked in so it aligns perfectly with the wall.
It's blade points out like it's reaching for something that's not there. Like it's searching for some invisible puck.
I remember the day when I used to play hockey with my dad. We never played on ice because I couldn't skate. Always on the ground in either the spring, summer or fall. We always played on the grass because it hurt less if I fell.
We only had one net that he would let me shoot on every time. I never got a goal that he didn't let in.
As the seasons passed and we both got older, we played less and less.
Now I'm living on my own, meeting my dad for supper that he pays for, talking about how my job search is going. Moving into an apartment on a whim. Making my own mistakes and falling down without the grass under me. The hockey stick stays there waiting for me to play with my own kids.