No Clue

I have absolutely zero idea what I’m doing. Not the slightest idea. I can sometimes pull off looking like I’m at least somewhat there, but don’t let that fool you. Clueless. I’m just stumbling through life like a drunken pirate, courting every bit of the trouble that I’ve managed to get myself into throughout my life. Not because I’m stupid and didn’t see it coming, but simply cause I just don’t give a fuck. Threat’s and extortion don’t mean shit to me. I’m institutionalized as fuck. Jail or incarceration don’t bother my much at all. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like it, I just don’t hate it either. And fuck, what else am I gonna do? Watch my kids grow up? Ha. Yeah ok. I’ve longed for death for as long as I can remember, I’ve never been scared of it. I lust for it. And because of this I look like a hot mess, like a Trainwreck. Like a career criminal, destined to die in prison. People always want to question me about why I am the way I am, never thinking once about what it actually was that made me like this in the first place. It’s never like oh poor Jason, look at what he’s overcome. No, instead it’s scorn and ridicule. It’s like, Look what Jason fucked up now, or even look at what he fucked up then, in the past. Never truly forgiving any of my flaws, just saving them for a later day. Ammo to attack with.

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