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Bulletproof

Limb by limb and tooth by tooth
Tearing up inside of me
Every day every hour
I wish that I was bulletproof

Seriously. It's like a movie reel that's been cut up in tiny pieces, mixed up and glued back together (yes like The Beatles). Then its played on fastforward, on a fucking loop. It hits me over and over, each image, of everything that's bothering me. Nothing and everything. The neverending remembering. The nagging feeling of the should've, could've, would've. Smiles, tears, laughs, sobs, screams, silences. There is no sense to this, just shit being tossed up and drilling a hole in my brain.

Christmas coming up. Oh the dread. It has no meaning to me. I don't even want to see my family. Not at Christmas. Not on any holiday for that matter. Why? There is no purpose for this. No one, not a single one of them attends church or expresses any religious affiliation of any kind. So what's the point? And then they go "Come on, sign for us, you're so good! Just one, please!" And then they go to my daughter "Come on play a little guitar for us, you're so good! Just one, please!" And then they go to my son "Come on tell us a joke, you're so funny! Just one, please!". It's Christmas, not circus, you fucking idiots

I wish I could include a few fictional movie clips on my reel. Reality sucks. Dread indeed.

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