john(ny)

Who am I? What am I all about? Honestly, who really cares? Im not sure Im really all that interested in the answers to those questions. Are you? At the very least, Im a fucking weirdo, and at best, Im probably a bastard. But hey, what can you do. I recently tried to do this whole "rearrange my perspective" thing, you know, to calm the voices in my head that say catchy things like "kill, Kill, KILL!" or "everyone knows...EVERYONE KNOWS!" (disclaimer: no, I do not hear voices, but I do generally dislike most people...don't you?"), and started to "reevaluate my relationships with others". Now, I know this sounds like I listened to some self help tape and I swear to the baby jesus, that I own no such audio recording, nor was such a recording rented or checked out of a library by me. I hate that hippie self help new age crap. You either adjust and deal, or you don't. Thats it, and no crystal or planetary alignment is gonna help. I was getting fed up with being fed up. Complaining and bitching and working towards this psychotic break where I would saddle up with an automatic rifle and walk into a crowded Wal-Mart, shooting any and everyone who looks like my father..."There's my dad...pow...There he is again...bang..."(disclaimer2: My father is actually a wonderful man whom I hope no one ever shoots...) I mean, everyone is a lunatic and a pain in the ass to deal with, myself included, so why keep on whining...make sense so far? Anyway, here I am a few months into this refiguring of my life, and do I feel any better? Yes, maybe? A little for sure, but goddamn do people still get to me...I mean, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.