wanted: one hug

I need a hug. Been too much drama all day and god damn it I want a fucking hug. 

is that too much to ask for?

seriously, is it? because fuck me it feels like it. 

Been a non-entity for two weeks. a ghost. 

am I dead? did I fucking cease to exist and no one mentioned it? and if so what perverse fucking hell is this? 

I need to speak to management. this shit is against the Geneva Convention. this silent treatment by the entire fucking globe is nonsensical. a fucking farce. yeah, i said it, a fucking farce.

eat a bag of dicks, my time, my words.

is this why everyone pretends I don’t function in the same realm any longer? did I take myself too serious and force myself into a pocket dimension filled with psychotic cunts and soy?

again. 

not again. I keep bread crumbs in my pocket for just this occasion. next to the ball of twine.

where the fuck are my pants? 

I had them on like three days ago. I remember. bread crumbs and ball of twine to prevent getting lost. 

wait. what day is this?

Sunhursday? that is shit. it was just Tuturday. did someone take a page out of my 365 day calender of misshapen colanders?

this will not stand. not without the proper support mechanism in place. brace that edge for a second while I construct a proper frame.

I need a hot glue gun, glitter, a lantern battery and someone to help. 

you, the one looking at your phone, no the other fucking you looking at your phone. yes, you. fuck beans, lets get to this, vamanos.

take the alligator clips and attach them to my nipple ring and then to the battery. chop chop.

now drip that hot glue all over my chest and call me a fucking shit stain. put some venom in your voice you delicious little monster.

now coat me in glitter and tell me I am pretty. make me believe it. make me fucking feel pretty. like a supermodel that has just binge ate an entire box of crackers over the span of three months.

indeed. 

entwined reclined designed refined benign

cannot find the word, right on the tip of my 

wait. are those my pants? 

No, my bad. clearly that is a plaid skirt. the way the light refracted through the water on my brain I saw the most magnificent swan. long graceful neck, covered in spots. real quiet with a sexy long tongue. giraffe? carafe of coffee more like it needle dick.

anxiety and stress all day. cannot seem to find the time to find the twine. mistaken and misplaced.

ever watch two pigs copulate? I did once, the squad car was bouncing and making a terrible racket and I was looking for the exit but the entrance was the only door and I saw it with mine own third eye through the haze of this disproportionate forest.

spelunking is only fun when it is consensual. 

this feels twisty like a piece of licorice, gummy and greasy like the pecker of an old turtle

blatantly heterophobic, hydroponic and super sonic, so get down on it

this all could have been avoided with a fucking hug you foul fucking fucks.

instead you let me go on and on about losing my pants and the price of water on Neptune. 

too fucking much, sir. I respect your opinion but please parlay to your boss and your boss’s boss that if I wanted to stick a ginger root in my ass I would gracefully moonwalk it in. thank you

I am lonely. 

hide it well, barely noticeable that it is beginning to affect me. even with the accusations of abuse set by an ex, false and inflammatory as they are. and then repeated by the ex’s current to his ex who then relayed it back to me which feels convoluted but actually fucking happened this very day. 

true story right fucking there

so I want a hug and maybe to hold someone tightly for an hour or night. 

but again, if wishes were fishes we would all be fucking sick of seafood. or some such shit.

fuck me, right?

right.

call me, come see me, I will drive we can do whatever when ever as long as it is with you.

not even sure who will receive this transmission from my oscillating heart ray set to fun. 

it will probably bounce around the heavens, when it is your heavenly body I want it to find.

shouldn’t play with your words Michael, not at the table. and where are your pants

the eternal external question

watch this, I will give you 9,728,970,088 reasons to call. but only one number to do so with. and it is secret. ish.

this turned out odd. oddly comforting.

love you

2 thoughts on “wanted: one hug

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