"...couldn't hurt"

"...couldn't hurt"

Maybe if I took lots of Meth, and Booze.

That, and wore a Space Pilot Helmet.

Ya know the one with the electric propeller.

Humm,...things might get better.

I mean shit,...my dreams are grey I mean actually dark grey.

All the color is washed out of them.

This has never happened before. These are bad times.

If I could still afford one this would freak out my shrink.

This shit makes jury duty look good.

What's going on,...well.

Suffice to say it's just bad. Pain loss nuttiness confusion. 

Fuck it I don't care about dropping dead.

It's just that it's taking so long.

That, and it's annoying, and fucked up along the way.

I don't want to bother anyone for anything.

I just want to be left the fuck alone.

And depart alone as I've had to live alone.

On the upside I have ice cream.

BTW

Happy Memorial Day.

You're suppose to remember them guys'n gals 

that got their arms legs balls faces, and tits shot off for you.

This in all them wars you know nothing about.

The beer, and Bar-B-Q isn't really the point of this.

Not them sales or fireworks neither.

IT'S ABOUT THEM.

But then most oblivious fuckers don't know or care.

So they can rot in fucking hell.