|||||Beck - Broken Train||]|
Dear (Your Name Here),
I'm so done with sitting here and watching people eat. I want to fly around. Or maybe I could live in a world that exists only in sentence fragments.
Ow! My battle scars! I went paintballing for the first time on Tuesday and suddenly all my bruises decided to be really tender. It was too much fun. I have to go again. I heard my co-workers went again without me. Lame.
Every brick in it's place. The crappy The Fray brick has to be at the bottom to support the better bricks. The ugly Toby Keith brick has to be in just the right place to disgustingly compliment the smarter, non-sucky bricks. But too many bricks and they just start to look the same. And who the hell wants to look like Toby Keith brick?
These people should just leave. They need to. So I can leave. Let that be a lesson to anyone who sits in a restaurant. Or anybody doing anything at anytime. Even though you can't see them, and you are unaware of them, know that somebody is probably waiting on you to finish whatever it is you're doing (ultimately nothing) so they can get on with their lives (and ultimately do nothing).
Now they are gone. But I'm still waiting on the bus boy. Man, I'm telling you. I'm getting so sick of waiting around everywhere. On anyone. Not just waiting tables. Waiting in general. Of course, somebody is probably waiting on me.
Getting really sleepy all of a sudden. The food - it was... I've been doped. Man in green sweater. Look for gsirifhehdia....
PS - This ending was fictitious. I did get tired, but beyond that it was all a ploy to inject excitement into the reader/a test to see which friends were true enough to try to help me. I might try more endings like this in the future.
Posted via LiveJournal.app.