dear ima retard diary,
i admit that. i don't have any fucking problem admitting anything of the kind. i knew when i was a child i was way to smart for my own good and i needed to do something about that right away- or i was going to be constantly set up for a miserable life- one that i wasn't willing to work for forever. no fucking way. shit came way to easy to have to work for it- and i wasn't about to start chasing after stuff that clearly was gonna come to me anyway- one way or the other. so i played stupid. now- i am cast in a lifetime role that i kick myself everyday for signing up for. who knew the world wasn't gunna STAY the way it was. shit. i was happy spitting out my bedroom windows on my brother and his friends. my mom was the only one who knew how smart i was- how my mind worked- and when she died- my secret was safe. to the outside world- i was just your average schmo jane doe- but my mind never quit working. i never found a quiet place- i always found comfort in chaos. but now that my life is nearly half over- i feel i've suffered a loss. if you boil down my useless drivel- you would have some thick words of script. i like to add in a bunch of extra words- because i like the way some words fit. i call myself a word farmer- a word tailor using my dreams as the seams- but all i ever do is put my heart into the words and what they mean. i call myself retarded because i am dumb in profound ways- i call myself a whore because it was a label that was applied and somehow stayed.
i admit that. i don't have any fucking problem admitting anything of the kind. i knew when i was a child i was way to smart for my own good and i needed to do something about that right away- or i was going to be constantly set up for a miserable life- one that i wasn't willing to work for forever. no fucking way. shit came way to easy to have to work for it- and i wasn't about to start chasing after stuff that clearly was gonna come to me anyway- one way or the other. so i played stupid. now- i am cast in a lifetime role that i kick myself everyday for signing up for. who knew the world wasn't gunna STAY the way it was. shit. i was happy spitting out my bedroom windows on my brother and his friends. my mom was the only one who knew how smart i was- how my mind worked- and when she died- my secret was safe. to the outside world- i was just your average schmo jane doe- but my mind never quit working. i never found a quiet place- i always found comfort in chaos. but now that my life is nearly half over- i feel i've suffered a loss. if you boil down my useless drivel- you would have some thick words of script. i like to add in a bunch of extra words- because i like the way some words fit. i call myself a word farmer- a word tailor using my dreams as the seams- but all i ever do is put my heart into the words and what they mean. i call myself retarded because i am dumb in profound ways- i call myself a whore because it was a label that was applied and somehow stayed.
