Life Is
Life is great, life is fantastic, life is fucking ultra-amaza-brilliant. Screw the cynics with their misery and glass-half-full emo crap, life is an unstoppable box of wonders and rainbows which just gets better and better and even better than that.
Cynics see the world as a place where everything’s blue, but when I’m with Susan life is like an open box of rainbows. Yeah, I’m reusing the analogy, what do I care if it’s poor writing, I’m in love, love, loooo – oh hang on, got a text:
Dear Tom,
It’s over.
I’ve met someone attractive.
Life is shit. Life is just a constant reminder that someday you’ll be dead and to be honest, that’ll probably be an improvement. Everything in life is awful, yeah, that’s right, literally everything. LITERALLY EVERYTHING.
CRISPS – sure they taste good and they’re crunchy but that doesn’t stop them being overpriced, high in fat and therefore SHIT.
STAIRS – Oh look at me I’m a bloody human, I think I’m too good to stay on the ground or to live on the ground, I want to live and sleep at a slightly higher altitude than other people so I’ll invent stairs which are irritating to climb and easy to fall down and crack your head open on when your six – They’re awful, just like EVERYTHING EVER.
And - Hang on
Hey Tom, sorry it came out of the blue, can we still be friends?
Life is so depressing. It’s all famine and crying widows. What’s the point? Even waking up is pointless, all life is is a distraction from sleep.
God this is horrible. Kill me. Kill me now. Hurry up. Come on. You didn’t write it, you can find me, the original author, kill him. Go on, he’s only going to end up on the streets again. Pick up your gun and find him. Aim for the face. Oh sure, he might pretend that ‘Tom Stone’ is a fictional character, an extreme version of himself but that’s bullshit and we know it. He’s just tearing pages out of his diary and giving them to pretentious websites in a pathetic attempt to get some attention of bored internet users between wanks.
Tom, I’ll keep this brief, I still love you bye
Life is confusing. One minute you’ve got it all figured out your mortgage, your job, your house, and then something you can’t explain just throws you off. Your milk stops showing up, one of your ears starts producing hair, you get raped by a triangle. Life is just a random order of random events like haircuts, birthdays, murders and funerals and you’re always at least 86 steps behind but you have to keep catching up or your out of the loop and swallowed by the whole pretentious mess.
Tom, real busy, wait and I’ll contact you soon.
Life is boring.. You’re parents. They’re boring. You’re friends. They’re boring too, go on, admit it. Your friends who have kids, oh fuck me they’re the most tedious of the bloody lot – they’re so boring entire civilizations have commit mass suicide just to avoid having to listen to another boring story about little Timmy’s first steps.
And boredom is dangerous. Boredom makes exciting people dull, makes smart people with good taste watch Jersey Shore. Boredom makes students go on shootings, America invade countries, Dog attack cats. Innocent people watch White Chicks. Boredom is the deadliest and most evil thing on the planet and it’s not even illegal.
Tom, I think I still have feelings for you, I just wish you were better looking.
Life is awkward. Meeting another person is so terrifying and the chances of you doing something humiliating to mess it all up are so high you might as well piss yourself right there and be done with it. Everything in life is awkward. When you get the wrong food at a restaurant and feel like Lord snob when you tell the waiter that he’s an incompetent idiot incapable of accomplishing the incredibly basic task of picking up plates of food and giving them to the people who asked for them. Awkward when the girl you like asks you what music you like and you panic and say ‘The Cardigans’, awkward when you try to mug an old lady and realise you’ve left your good knife at home, awkward when you have to explain to the family who are enjoying their barbeque what you’re doing in their bushes with binoculars.
Life is one uncomfortable scenario after the other, full of squirms, humiliation and pain that the very idea of talking to a member of the opposite sex is enough to make your balls-
Dear Tom
I think I’m finally ready to move on, sorry if you feel I messed you around.
Your friend, Susan
Life is… lonely.