My pants are Not on fire

I've gotta new game for ya. Which is my lie?

A. It's hard to keep up with everything. I'm a louse, not good with change. Emotionally, its fine because i'm like a beady eyed cockroach. I can adjust to anything without much of a bother. I prefer the dark and feed on yr trash. I don't eat it all, just the parts that haven't touched the can. So if I'm not talking emotionally, i must be talking about socially. Well, i'm forgetful, lazy, and my sentiments evolve too quick to keep up with. In other words, i can't keep to my hobbies. I can't write back, can't call back, can't even play my guitar. My fingers are losing their toughness. Really, I can't be bothered. Nothing new has come. I'm still me. One day, yr an engine, the next day a toad. I accept the defeat but at the price they keep over your pretty little head.



B. It's my first visit to the gynocologist. Really. I'm 25. It could be worse, I could be 40. I haven't been to any doctor in years. Last time a nurse weighed me, i felt relieved. Today, well, today i feel deaf. Someone told me something i did not want to hear. There are alot of things that I don't want to hear. I thought one of them was the sound of your voice, but i was wrong. You proved me wrong once again.


C. A buddy, nameless to protect the guilty, asked me who this "you" is. I did a half laugh, like the kind you'd imagine yrself giving if your mom asked you if you've smoked heroin. And let's pretend that you had, and you had forgotten to remove your glass apparatus from the toilet lid. I told my buddy that the You in which i speak is a faceless entity in which i direct my shakiest feelings. I told my buddy it was a mosaic of my best friends and worst enemies. I told my buddy that it was everybody but them. My uncomfortable "i didn't smoke that heroin" laugh revealed to us both that I am a liar. Because the only Yous are the handful of people for whom i've admitted love. Only the loves that have had the pleasure of disappointing me, of making me cry in happiness, of making me cry in anger, and making me want to be them. I think i secretly want to be everyone i really love. I try not to be a hypocrite. I try and remember that no one can make me feel anything. My buddy stopped listening about 5 minutes after I began an excited chatter.