Fake plastic me

A green plastic watering can
For a fake Chinese rubber plant
In the fake plastic earth

I’ve been depressed lately. I’m bored and tired and grumpy and horny and easily distracted. I sleep but when I wake up I immediately wish I had more time to sleep. I feel fat and unattractive, this suicidally plummeting self image is countered sweetly by a sex drive that is two notches shy of manic. That’s right, folks, it’s Springtime in Aaron’s head.

I want to purge. Everything. Stuff from the house. Stuff from my body. Stuff from my head. Especially that last one. Stuff from my head. I can’t stop thinking of shit to say and then stopping myself because I don’t want to be rude. I can’t stop thinking the curse words and biting my tongue. And that’s just not working anymore. I’m always the guy who grins and bears it, but I can’t grin and bear it anymore. It’s poisoning my organs. It’s making me toxic. It’s turning me to plastic. This shit can’t be kept inside my head.

This shit has to be said.

You should dump him. You know you should. You say as much. But every time you seem on the verge you back down and suddenly you’re cuddling with him again. He’s never going to get off his ass and do anything. It’s a bear to get him to decide on fucking dinner, and you think he’s gonna be the one to keep beside you for an exciting life, a life of maximum effort? He’s functionally illiterate trailer trash and you’re fucking blind if you can’t see it.

You don’t seem to understand what I am saying. I said it and I meant it. We’re through with this, I’m tired of it. I gave you chance after chance and you lied and halfassed and in the end did nothing. When I finally told you how I felt, you nodded your head like you understood, but apparently you didn’t. If you don’t do something with yourself soon you’re going to end up on the street. How can you not see that?

Why should I be happy? You promised me freedom to pursue what I wanted and then when I took that option it turned into backpedaling and doubletalk. Now I’m stuck between two people who are telling me completely opposite things. So now that this clusterfuck is on the slow boat to nowhere, you give me a hearty handshake and tell me I deserve it. Well fuck you too.

I wasn’t sure how to react when you asked me about it before, because I never met him. But then I did and if that’s how he treats you every day, you need to run, not walk, away. It’s borderline abusive, and I could detect no humor in it. This was not the witty barbs of a sarcastic lover, these were the jabs of a little man who insists on keeping his woman in check with psychological assault. I couldn’t believe how he belittled you in front of your friends and his. It’s not my place to say, I know, but now it’s said. You deserve so much better, it makes me angry just thinking about it. Don’t you know how beautiful you are?

You coward. How can you hide behind this wall? The strength to change the things you can, faggot, that’s the line you should be thinking about. Fuck serenity. Fuck comfort. Fuck complacency. This is about progress, and you can’t make an omelet without killing a couple chickens, right? A restless night of horror sleep with these thoughts ricocheting around inside your head isn’t a good trade to stop a couple minutes of uncomfortable conversation. You’re an idiot, and a coward. You’re lazy, and this shit is getting old. You’ve burned every bridge on the way here and ended up with what? Thirty extra pounds and a head full of stories that are all worn out, soft at the edges. You need the crystalline outline of something new.

She lives with a broken man
A cracked polystyrene man
Who just crumbles and burns
– Radiohead “Fake Plastic Trees”

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