I don’t want to eat things that are good for me
i want to sit in a mcdonalds for an hour by myself stuffing my face
full of processed happiness like I’m storing up for the winter. I want to feel nuclear waste pump through my veins and well up behind my eyes
and I want to cry bacon grease all over my Sunday clothes
so the nice old ladies in the front row would dose me with candy to shut the fuck up. 
i just want my heart to be clogged with something physical!

we’re all the apathetic generation of the fast food nation
mutually masturbating
over pictures of ex-girlfriends
the whole world’s on fire but we FEEL too much so let’s slaughter all the piggies to fill the hole in our guts
and feel, maybe, a little less bored

even though this place smells just like her house
 I can’t be bathed in the flickering light
of favorite movies unobserved 
groping, nervous leg-shaking.
A family orders a large pizza and hides from the weather all day.
there are some feelings I want to keep displayed in glass, like a rare moth pinned down.
But they just flutter by you and back off into the clouds after they lay their eggs in your skull

a big mac tastes exactly the same every time. 

  1. andpan posted this