shut the fuck up and stop wasting my time

the job killed me today
i am survived by those surviving
so many things i've yet to see
and the words keep flowing pointless from the ones i had called friend
nothing poignant or influential just ways to waste a way
what am i now, twenty-two going on bed ridden
i hate this life
i hate the weather
the surf is good on either side but today i miss the rest of you too much
its funny how you care for strangers when the ones you know can't give a damn
i miss the sands of Barstow
the cavernous regions of Arizona
and the beer of a foreign bar with an old friend who never once dodged my attempts to connect