He sat quietly in his chair,

exhausted and defeated, that same phrase popping out from the wall across from him in bolded letters, screaming ,” Are you serious?” over and over again until he thought he’d gone insane. He cried out to the empty room for a repeat, a second chance, a reversal of time. But nothing changed and he found himself in his room clutching the wall in resignation.

Nombres Famosos

Sunday comes home too fast,
I can't believe the pain.
My hands are filled up with smoke
And I can't feel my brain.

I found these lines written on a piece of paper I had for Spanish class. The funny thing is that I seriously don't recall writing this, but I guess I did because it was in my handwriting. Hmm...interesting. I tried googling it, hoping that perhaps they were lyrics to a song I heard during Spanish class or something in which I wrote down the lyrics in hurried ecstasy. Ha. Nothing showed up. I guess I DID write it then. But then again, what the fuck was I trying to say? Why would I write this? What message was I trying to convey? Shit. Maybe it was just one of those things. "Sunday comes home too fast." what the FUCK?? Maybe someone named Sunday comes home too fast and like gets into a car crash and "can't believe the pain" and his hands are "filled up with smoke" and "[he] can't feel [his] brain"? Nah. Wait. Maybe its a personificatoin. Okay so maybe the narrator feels that Sunday, being the end of the week and all, comes too quickly and destroys his peace and tranquility that he felt during the weekend. Perhaps the relationship between the weekend and Sunday is like the "calm before the storm". Sunday, storm. Weekend, calm. hmm... interesting Duy. Another interesing thing I would like to bring up is the fact that the words pain and brain are ryhmed. This places the two together like two peas in a pod which formulates the idea that there could have possibly been head trauma during the "crash."


Interesting..

At times I find it unbearable

to hold it all together. It's like trying to juggle a piano in one hand while simultaneously rubbing the stomach of an albino Norwegian sheep...with the same hand. yeah. crazy. Do Norwegians even have sheep? oh whatever, that's so not the point. The point is, I'm crazy about you and...and...and...FUCK. ljeakljflekwfyweljlk.


yeah...