I suck at life.
I suck at Math. I suck at typing, I suck at making friends, I suck at being friends, I suck at music, I suck at humor, I suck at love, I suck at sports. I suck at being myself, but that's good because who I really am sucks so much.
I drink so much and I smoke so many drugs because they help me numb out the suck.
There's nothing I'm good at. Maybe like, grammar and drinking pepsi. I cannot think of a single thing I can do better than anyone else. I was trying to think of things I'm good at on my ride home, as some sort of feeble attempt to make myself feel better, and the only thing I came up with was: "I'm good at being perenially god-awful at everything." I'm the fucking Tampa Bay Devil Rays personified. I thought of driving my fucking shitbox of a car into a telephone pole, because I would own at that. I'd hit it so fast and square that the the guys on the scene would be like: "That motherfucker creamed that thing. Thirty years as a coroner, never seen anything like it."
At that would be the story of me.
Here lies Matt Ling
(1982-2006)
Motherfucker Owned at Hitting Poles with Cars.
I'm going to the hospital or at least a clinic in the morning, so if you don't see me for a while, that's why. It's won't be because I drove my car into a pole. Even if that would probably be the most badass tombstone ever.
I suck at Math. I suck at typing, I suck at making friends, I suck at being friends, I suck at music, I suck at humor, I suck at love, I suck at sports. I suck at being myself, but that's good because who I really am sucks so much.
I drink so much and I smoke so many drugs because they help me numb out the suck.
There's nothing I'm good at. Maybe like, grammar and drinking pepsi. I cannot think of a single thing I can do better than anyone else. I was trying to think of things I'm good at on my ride home, as some sort of feeble attempt to make myself feel better, and the only thing I came up with was: "I'm good at being perenially god-awful at everything." I'm the fucking Tampa Bay Devil Rays personified. I thought of driving my fucking shitbox of a car into a telephone pole, because I would own at that. I'd hit it so fast and square that the the guys on the scene would be like: "That motherfucker creamed that thing. Thirty years as a coroner, never seen anything like it."
At that would be the story of me.
Here lies Matt Ling
(1982-2006)
Motherfucker Owned at Hitting Poles with Cars.
I'm going to the hospital or at least a clinic in the morning, so if you don't see me for a while, that's why. It's won't be because I drove my car into a pole. Even if that would probably be the most badass tombstone ever.
5 Comments:
nah, i think you're pretty awesome.
ps. you wrote this sunday night. whytf didn't you stick around hunter's! i had actually wondered where you went.
or maybe i was just too drunk then, and the time is off on this thing.
You are great at meeting people and making friends. I think you are so interesting and fun. Be happy! You are wonderful! :)
Sorry for not announcing my departure on Sunday, I was feeling miserable and not in the mood to discuss it.
matt, you throw yourself down stairs like no other.
i've seen people try. they only kill themselves in trying.
you do. and you survive!~
ps did you get my second email from my work account? sometimes email doesn't send because of certain words in it, and i think i wrote 'nazi germany' in it.
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