Thats the way it goes and goes and goes

So i'm in one of those moods again where i don't wanna be bothered by people or the things people do, like talking to each other. I swear I"m such a hermit sometimes. But i'm a mood swinger, what can i do? Maybe I'll grow up and have 50 cats running around my house, pooping all over the place. I'll be a bitter bitter old man as i sit contemplating my lack of human contact, and while I'm engaged in self-depricating thought, I'll be staring at a brown ceiling through the tinted rump of bottle poised upwards, as I therapeutically "crack one back" and suck my liquid recluse down. I'll wipe my mouth and let out a sigh, then sit in silence as I feel the burn in my stomach, flaring up besides the pitter patter of a lonely heart. Okay i just sound like a fag now, it won't be THAT bad - i've never liked alcohol much. But hey, i could always become a monk.

But don't get me wrong, because i'm not a depressed motherfucker. I'm not chemically imbalanced in this sense, so if i were depressed, that would mean I'm the one making myself depressed, as opposed to my brain making me depressed. And i don't do that to myself, for the most part, because that's for pussies. The way I see it, if your seretonine is clocking in all fine and dandy, yet you wanna tie your dick to a rope and jump off a cliff, you're just a pussy. A pussy who needs to spin a cacoon and hibernate, so that after a few months or so, hopefully, you can finally emerge as a full fledged and bustling penis. Because we all know, penises don't get depressed. Of course, they have their ups and downs, but if you're a healthy penis, it's not that hard to get up.

But back to whiney little me, I just don't like small talk. Which kind of sucks because that's the majority of the talk that goes on. But at the same time, talking about deeper shit gets boring and after a while. Eventually you're just gonna wanna talk about humping shit, and why humping shit is fun. So then you start talking about humping shit, but it turns into a whole "i hump more shit than you" kind of conversation. But not exactly in those words, because everybody starts trying to top off each other's stories, in essence, trying to prove they're the masters of the hump, and that nobody - not Humpty Dumpty nor Humphrey Bogart, humps more than them. So everybody is like, "oh yeah i hump like a lion on viagra, here, let me show you my cock. This cock is big, and has humped many a thing". The bravado just bugs me.

So I talk to myself in my head alot, and i mean alot.

I'm running out of shit to say to myself though. I already asked myself, "so hows the weather?", like a million times. And I've already replied, "a bit overcast, but at least it isn't too chilly", about a million times as well. Then there's usually this awkward silence. So I'll stare up at the sky, pretending to take in the weather as indicated by the expired conversation, but i'm really just trying to think of something to say. Then I give up and shut up completely, because i don't even feel like talking to myself anymore for fucks sake. It's vicious i tell you!