byproduct
Greetings disloyal minions. For your grinch has returned to his particular residence of depression. Yes the darkness is behind me and an ominous white glow is bestowed upon my glistening face. Glistening how? what glistens in the light? Guess. Go on.
It seems as though I have been left astray. Doesn’t surprise me much at all actually. Being the person I am, saying the words I do, acting the way I do. It isnt a surprise that I am pushed under the desk and had the label “byproduct” affixed to my forehead. Under the desk at night. The white light is adhered to objects in the loungeroom behind me.
Moral of the story. I have been pushed away from sight. Forced into that crawlspace that is seemingly screaming my name and reeking of my scent because I have continually sat in that space for so long on so many separate occasions.
But why I am shoved into this space? The way I am. ME! I hate how I act, I hate how I carry myself. I act like a fucking uptight 40 year old! Im sitting here right now, on my imac, with my glasses on, legs crossed left over the right, in a gown… A FUCKING 40 YEAR OLD! Who in their right mind would want that around them. The skunk has a better chance at finding happiness than I. The ugly, smelly, annoying skunk!
“Don’t worry, its just Jordan. Not like anyone will notice” I noticed. While i was in the fucking crawlspace i noticed. A case of out of sight, out of mind? Because I am forced into not being somewhere, I dont matter? Is that it? FUCKING OATH IT IS!
My prescience, breeds the absence of unpleasantness. No one wants me around. Its evident in their actions. And dont we forget the crawlspace!
No one wants me, no one will have me.
“I’ll give me away for free?” I yell to passers by
“Ew. Get your stock away from me. It isnt worth the cobble its treading on” replies every passer by as they glare up and down at my preposterously overaged physique for a 17 year old.
“This mutton isnt even dressed as lamb?NON ATTEMPT!” one shrieks!.
Not even good enough to be gross.
No one will touch me.
I want to be hugged.
I want to be anything, not just that person who is out of sight and out of mind.
BUT CHILDREN SHOULD BE SEEN AND NOT HEARD! NOT HEARD NOT HEARD!!! I’ll be an adult soon. I’ll be the same. same as always….
I imagine the only sexual intimacy i will ever achieve with another again is if i commit to mitosis with myself because then not one person will need to come into contact with me. Oh the divinity of that idea. Pleases the world it does.
Pleases everyone.
Everyone but me.
But seriously, who cares about this worthless boy from wheverthefuck he lives. It doesnt matter.
Remember last nights leftovers from dinner? Simply said the dinner is society, I am the leftovers you feed to your dog or bake into an incredibly ugly casserole the next day to pass off as an actual meal for your senile grandmother. That, the byproduct.
The bile.
The bilirubin
The mucus
The plasma
The Radioactive Waste
The emissions
The fumes
The Jordan.
All byproducts. Not worthy for production line.
Exaunt.
Come come! You’re young, you’re cute, you’re smart. Why wouldn’t you you meet fun people, sexable people, relationship material, potential BF’s, …?
Get out there and meet ppl.
I know my reply is loaded with pep talk clichés and it’s easier said than done.
But there’s no quick fix and I’m afraid it’s quite up to you…
i agree with the person.. above? below? whatever.
it’s up to you to take charge of your life. you can’t just give up because you live in a certain area or look different, act different or whatever it is that you think you’re doing. it’s your life and only you can change it.
you might see this comment as just another consolation but i really believe what i’ve been telling you in all my comments: you’re unique, incredible, amazing, kind, funny and anyone would be lucky to have you. i wish you could see this in yourself as much as i see it in you.