No Title #1

You'll get there...



It's around this days that I actually get the notion of doing what I do best and doing, if for anything, to clear my mind. It's practically this moments that remind me of why did I named my blogg like I did and why, given the everythings in life, did I dare to call myself Mr. Bitchin. In a nutshell, cause it's probably amongst the ten top things I do best. It's bad and all, but if anyone cared enough to read this stuff then probably I would consider the semantics of my name, maybe even debate the whole damn thing. For what purpose really escapes my mind.

Above anything and saying whatever anyone wants, might o will say, it comes to the end of another highly unsatifying year. I guess that's for the better 'cause to tell you the truth, I wouldn't care much if anything was fine and dandy. Perhaps I'd forget about it or give life the uddermost importance at all. But really, a few dignified strugles here and there aren't that bad on the long run, they're just too fucking stupid and too fucking obnoxious. Sometimes I get the feeling a higher power is just rubbing it on.

I bitch mostly because it's the thing to do, you know, instead of entering a night's long alcohol or drug binge. Bitching is my natural high. Like I said befor, this world with it's uppers and it's downers, never leaves me with a short array on things to bitch about. Allthough I must say not bitching about the government or religion or the established or just about all and every one of human mistakes takes away certain street cred, I say that selfishness just about is, in my opinion, one of the most honest feelings or traits in our human nature.

So I put it on me to bitch about the one thing I'm pretty sure nobody else would ever bitch about. Me. Who could? Who the fuck would? Life is for every one of us to judge. Just that it takes away the valuable energy I needed in the first place to overcome some shit. Shit happens, so people would say, but dag nabbit, shit has the nasty way of piling up when nobody is looking. When you're not looling. Shit hits me in the face when I'm not looking. And then I am, and I wish I weren't looking in the first place.

It is in this rare ocassion, that just like he did, I wish I were gone. Long gone and far away from here. Sometimes I go back and felt like I sometimes felt as a younger kid. Sometimes I even go as far as feeling sick and suicidal. Shit, I even go out and feel as if the curse just won't stop. I know what overcame me, and I fucking know just what it meant. Frankly, sometimes I think I bitch, because clearly and surely, I just don't get the fucking lesson. Sometimes, not even roughing me up, shaking me down and scaring the living shit out of me, will get the message through.

So I bitch, because I have no other solution or way out. I bitch my way out. And it gets worse in time. Fuck all the empty threats I've made in the past. Telling me that I'm a badass motherfucker won't do shit. Be me one or not really doesn't make that much of a difference. It's just reminders of being big and important and really not that weak. So fuck them. I'm not gonna end this saying I'll be there or that I'll make a difference or that I'll fight till the end. Every-single-fucking-body does that, and they don't brag about it.

No, they bicth about it.