By Phil Skaggs Jr
Copyright 2013 Phil Skaggs Jr
Dammit. I thought about suicide again. The idea of taking a knife out of the cafeteria and grinding it down onto my wrists hit me like a flash. I hate when that happens. It makes me queasy and the veins in my forearms throb then burn and shrivel up. Trying to hide from my horrible mind.
I’ve been trying to get those thoughts out of my head. It ain’t easy. I go about my business. I don’t bother anyone then all of a sudden someone decides it’s open season on me. Then I start feeling bad for myself even though I know I shouldn’t. I can’t help it. The thing is, it’s like they’re reminding me I’m fucked up. I know I have a bulbous head. With two bulging and twisted eyes and my chin is super weak. Like nearly non-existent. My hair is thinning on top. My nose is too big for my head which seems like it should be impossible and my ears look like someone was trying origami on them. I am not a good looking man. Oh well, just another child born in the radiation belt thanks to that giant space egg and the giant radiation spewing lizard that came out of it. Followed by many more.