Things that aren't as important as they should be.

Thursday, December 23, 2010

The Usual Business and The Constant Things.

Thursday, December 23rd 2010

     Tomorrow morning my family gets into the car to go to Delaware. Help. I packed my chargers and few books, so I should be able to avoid everyone until it’s time to open gifts or dessert. It’s not that I hate my family, it’s just that I hate being around them. My parents may be cold and unfeeling, but at least they’re not as annoying as the rest of them. Every year I’m doomed to being poked and prodded by idiotic grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and some other losers who I don’t share blood with but have no place else to go. The only variable: whether I’m enduring hell in Delaware or hell in Freehold.

     The wagon is filled with presents so it’s going to be a cramped 3 hour ride for me. As usual, all I am giving everyone is warm wishes and best intentions, and you just can’t wrap those.

     Next week I’ll post my best of 2010 lists for music and movies. I’ve also decided on a New Year’s resolution. Next year I want to write more in this journal or spend less time on my computer, whichever happens first.

     So to all the wonderful fake friends I’ve made on the internet, I wish you a merry happy super holiday. Until then, I leave you with my latest poem.

The Constant Things.

It’s all one big regret. You can hang your hat on it.
I had to understand before I hated it.
You could listen to what I listened to.
You could learn a thing or two before.
I’d bet my hat on it, before I’d bet my hat on it.

I’m a constant. I like broken things.
Buried at sea, my hat was buried at sea.
Who do you think you are?

I understand customs. You could hardly understand.
Continue to buckle until it makes some sense.
Just go downhill in general for sure.
You could learn a thing or two before.
You’ll get to where I am, before you’ll get where I am.

I’m a constant. I like broken things.
Buried at sea, my hat was buried at sea.
Who do you think you are?

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