six beers from happy

God made me to break rocks.

Somewhere along the way somebody told me I was smart. They mistook my silence for wisdom, my ignorance for endurance, my trivia for intellegence, my niavity for morality. I believed them, and now I sit here in this office.

I'm not smart though. My brain chatters non-stop, the same way that my leg bounces when I sit down. Just because my leg is moving doesnt mean I'm running a marathon. My turning thoughts arent doing anything but making me sick.

I want a helmet and a hammer. I want safety glasses and steel tipped shoes. Point me towards a Mountain, and I'll make myself so tired, that there will finally be silence within. You'll have to tell when the sun goes down to go home, because I just dont know when to stop.

Sit me down at coffee and I will recite the automated responses:"Working Hard?", "Hardly Workin!","Ya Cocksucker" We will go around the circle, and everyone will say what we have planned for retirement. I will be the only one smiling, because there wont be a thing in my head.