Ramblings Stories

Oh…..March 1 st , how nice to see you again. I would like to come to an agreement today,if at all possible. If you promise not to be a miserable prick, I promise I will not call you one. Maybe I will even start to like you, or at least be cordial; a fake smile eventually turns real. I think I’m going to coin that. Be it true or not, I am going to post it everywhere and find out. If you force a smile, does the forcing part...

I am finding it increasingly difficult to witness chaotic confusion at work without letting it bother me. Three hours into my day and I want to scream over the radio “EVERYONE CALM THE FUCK DOWN”!!, but instead I will calm down and vent here. Lucky you.You see, the problem is, most of my staff is not “seasoned.” They have no idea what mid-March and spring break will bring us. I do. A fucking flood of people with unimagina...

Would you be mine, Valentine, or have you already promised another? Girl. You think I don’t know her, and maybe I do. Maybe, just maybe, I know you lie to her too. Perhaps I know because she has told me so. Her questioning glance when you grab me to dance, the hurt in her eyes as she acknowledges your lies. Don’t get mad at me sweetie pie, I’m not the one caught in a lie. It’s not me hurting another, and I am not the one...

What do you want from me? I mean really, REALLY? Can you give a bit of honesty? Is it too much of me to ask that from time to time, you have my back? And no, I do not fear the attack. I do not mind the scars. I always have my sparkle after they’ve taken my stars. The only thing that bothers me is that you had doubt of what I am all about. You believed I had lies and you never even asked me why. There are many things I wil...

The cursor on the blank spread of a Word document seems to taunt me as it clicks backwards, forwards, off and on. I heard that back in the day, the same kind of mocking dance would have been played with a typewriter whose ink drips, waiting for words. The lack of scratching would have tormented those writers the same way the harsh clicks torment me. It’s 2 A.M. right now, and these are the ramblings of a madman who doesn'...