Forever In The Shit

                                                                       
Today it occurred to me that I am forever in the shit, a square peg in a round hole and a walking, talking reason to leave the room. I try to laugh off the circumstances but I would rather dream of making them sorry, like some kind of Old Testament eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth and my boot up your ass shit. Oh, just once to be on the dishing it out end, just one fucking time where I get to be the one who has it together instead of the one who hasn’t a clue.

As the day gets longer the shit gets thicker. Soon it will be like quick sand and I am up to my fucking ears. The funny part is, I have lived this day before, I mean right up to the Goddamn eye rolls of the bitches I work with. Why don’t I change it you ask, because Man, I’m an artist a fucking writer, this other shit…It’s just material for my next big post on Stories.com.

Besides, I’ve tried to change it. Tried to change me, but when you were born under the sign of the asshole, you’re doomed to be forever in the shit.