softblog

71

[today: fuck]

the

fuck

is retroactive, the

fuck

is prospective, the

fuck

is now and the

fuck

is eternal. there was nothing you could have done to escape it, or at least that's what you tell yourself. there might have been things you could have done, but you didn't do them. all you are left with is frustration, bitterness, maybe melancholy later on, and a

faint fuck-to-be on the edge of your lips.

[ad nauseam]

sometimes you may whisper it, sometimes you may blurt it out in anger, but it's always there, every damned day, a sort of sour note you tack on at the end of whatever it is that's got you fucked up, just so that you don't feel completely erased. at the very least, i am here, and i can scream

FUCK!

to my heart's content. i don't know whether there's solace in that or if it's just pathetic.

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