FUCKIN' CLOWNS!

I am very trusting of people. But of late, I have begun to doubt their every fucking action or word.

Their every move, I now realize, is full of deceit and thoughtfully spun lies. And it makes me sick. So damn sick that I can’t function straight.

I feel claustrophobic. I am cranky and losing my fucking marbles. Fuck! I am going crazy. Let me rephrase that. Fuck! I am turning into a fanatic – out to give the world my crooked middle finger.

June and July are just not my fucking months. Every year around this time, something happens. Something that makes me frighteningly depressed.

I cannot put my finger on what makes me sick like this to the bone. I try to look happy and move on. But I’m dragged to the fucking loop again. Falling deeper, falling down, down, down.

It’s mid-July today. Hopefully in another 15 days I’ll get back to my normal, sexy, undoubting, lazy, and indecisive self. I’ll wait.

I hate rejection of any sorts.

At work I am the guy, who does the work of the guy that’s gone missing or of the guy who’s fucking quit. “I have immense talent.” I’ve been fucking told, time and again. But rewards are yet to come by for the talent I possess. I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK ANYMORE!

I have been taken for granted all my life. I’ll put a fucking stop to that now. I’ll put a stop to being the non-judgmental guy who’s always OK with things.

If you want me around – don’t piss me off too much. In another two weeks - when I get back to oozing my dangerously exotic sexuality, my smashing charm and, my brand new confidence – you won’t exist for me no more.

The entire goddamn city is a circus. And the sign on my door 'FOR YOU' will be loud and clear: “No fucking Clowns allowed!”

“I used to live in a room full of mirrors, All I could see was me.” – Jimi Hendrix.