in a horribly
bitter
and
unsuccessful
(left last three jobs
without a true
goodbye
and last two jobs
without
any goodbye
at all)
way,
i can’t:
like anyone
or anything
anymore
cause:
i want to be
so great
and loved
myself
(the great one…
and…
the loved one…)!
by fans!
(me) having:
to squeeze
every moment i see
through a
proof
where
i’m better than them
(them that i see
in the moments)
and
but…
just… it’s all…
in small ways (that i do the proof)
(a hate-filter-lens proof)
(i can still love, tho)
(examples a’plenty re:
trying hard: imagining
people i see
as trying way harder
than i do)
and
it’s hard to deal
having a shit personality
sometimes
secretly waiting
for the world of Her
to get here
so i can have
Scarlett Johansen
in my ear
and
the girl
from Mr. Robot
in my high-rise
living room?
and the air
outside
quilting(?)
the windows
is
modified by
the moods
and themes
of my tumblr
(recent posts;
depends on frequency
of posting)
how simple life
was then, we will say!
all i dreamt for
was a damn
Wordpress like
and a comment
saying
i read this, here’s
proof, i’m your fan now!

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