sofia de lockhart., a mystery post.,

Choke it down

Sit back in the chair, cross my heart, hope to die, a martyr, a waster, complete procrastinator, bullet through the heart, needles in my eyes.
Everything so merry all around me. Pretty well controlled on the medication. Crack open a cold can of satisfaction.
You made it. But you already knew that. Feels good, doesnt it? Success.
No need for revenge when you got friends like that guy I know. I love the way he sees me coming down the street, holds out his hands, asks me for some tobacco.
Always never there when I dont need him. Must be telepathy. Or telesales induced neuropathy. Same thing if you ask my friend. But what would he know?
Too many cooks spoil the celebrity cooking show. Too many celebrity cooking shows spoil your appetite. I mainly eat tinned foods for their lack of asthetic value. Dont want to tuck into anything better looking than me. The maccaroni last night is a fine example. Had to take the whole plate out into the garden and bury it in the soil, near that old tree where the cat shits. No one will ever suspect. I was dressed as a bus driver and everybody knows I dont even have a costume. So keep it between me and you.
Got it?
Good.
Seriously though, im losing it.
Running on a treadmill lined with disposible coffee cups and condoms full of salt. I hate these people because I hate myself more. The reason being, I should know better.
I was really clever.
I know this because I took a test when I was a teenager and the results were summarised into pie charts and graphs.
Im in the top 5% of the country.
They just dont want to let me get ahead.
You can never hold a good man down. And I never was a good man. Not even really a man. Even that carries it a bit to far. If you are man you have wisdom, a car and a house, a life partner, a knowledge of your own sexually transmitted infections, a good set of teeth, savings, a haircut, a football team, stocks and shares, neatly trimmed toe nails and a secret admirer next door. Any room for a little one on the end?
Let the love in, but make sure it wipes its arse before it sits down.
Got that.
Good.

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