i should have gone to college
i think someday i’ll drink so much that my heart explodes
i’ll hire someone to keep pouring drinks down my throat
once i’ve gotten past the point of crying
and expressing my love for everything ever
and taking my shirt off
past the point of having my subconscious misogyny come out in ugly words
sometimes i say things that make me hate myself
one time i drank a bottle of port wine
i told my ex-girlfriend terrible things on the internet
i stumbled a mile to her house
i picked up some gravel from the driveway to throw at the window as i slowly regained consciousness, tried to figure out why i was there
her stepfather came out and asked if i was alright with disgust
i assured him i was just fine and tried to walk back to my friend’s place
i tried to climb a barbed wire fence on the way and gave myself stigmata
got back at 8 in the morning and realized i had pissed my pants and there was vomit on my shoes
i’ll never forget high school
now i never drink
i smoke a pack of parliaments or camels a day and sleep five hours a night
i read a lot of magazines and i drink a lot of green tea
i do pushups when i feel like i hate myself
i run through the woods for an hour or two on sundays
i iron my uniform and shine my shoes
i should have gone to college
heaviness
I don’t feel anything about anyone anymore
I’ve suddenly become an atheist
I feel alone
there is coffee brewing and there are planes and helicopters flying overhead
I can smell the paper mill and it brings me back to retarded days, hot, humid, sleep deprived, a different feeling
if the lieutenants ever knock on my door for a bed check
they will open it and probably see my naked ass and my chintzy lion tattoo
clothes and books strewn across the floor, probably tell me to get another haircut
i’m broke from a car crash, i can’t do enough pushups, and i’ll probably never quit smoking
i’m willfully ignorant about a lot of things because I am a self-centered asshole
I went to a fortuneteller and he read my tarot cards or whatever the hell they call it
he drew one called the hanged man, one called death, and one called the moon
i can’t remember what they meant
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tyler arsenault is from ladson, south carolina. he is currently in the military and he writes in his free time. you can find more of his writings at lacotemaletaile.tumblr.com.