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...:: Untitled ::... 2004-02-07 4 12:24 a.m. i am a short, fat & ugly boy -- the kind you would confuse w/ a troll. like i should be waiting beneath a swaying bridge, rickety & ancient. crouching, all conspirational-like, covered in the dirt of ages, waiting for billy-goats to pass. such is the fate of an ugly boy -- a short, fat & ugly boy. the one tossed from hand to hand within the whirling circle of ridicule; spot-lighted & famous, my 15 minutes are spent staggering drunkedly, pelted w/ nicknames... in my story, the hunchback doesn't get the girl. in my story, the girl is ethereal; maturbation material i never made use of. a hologram like so many other dreams, mockingly out of reach. stubby arms don't reach far -- any short, fat & ugly boy would tell you the same. ours is not the fate of the frog prince, to us no glory ascribed, rather accursed existence on the sidelines, here we shift our weight from foot-to-foot & huddle, making cold slush out of our own collected salt-water. yes, we feel... fumbling in the twilight darkness of obscurity holding our hearts in our hands because we can't afford compasses. they tell us that we need none; our place is an immobile one, covered in the dirt of ages, waiting for bully-goats to pass. but... be mindful, sons of security -- there just may come a day when a nation of millions gathers under that bridge. be mindful that you are not the b(i/u)lly goat crossing when that mother gets tipped just a little... too... far. previous - next