I hate Dogs

I’m not that interesting.

I spend my time in circular mind trances.

People look to me like I’m Socrates.

I don’t enjoy where I am or where I could be.

I’d like to jump really high but lack the motivation to stand up.

I spend my free time in other worlds, pretending I’m thousands of years behind.

I’m a mental vigilante with no outsourced marketing.

I have a sweet tooth for something that’s not mine.

I don’t get paid what I think I should get paid. (which is not that much, but enough to survive.)

I’m a cartoon character in real world problems.

I’m stuck in a hilarious forty-five degree angle.

What happened to the time when time was the time when I paid attention to time.

I want to be in an envelope, sent far away, and get returned to sender.

I think I was born a Samarian with a fifties outlook on life.

I wish I could remember when new things were invented that weren’t on infomercials.

I see in black and red and can only feel blue and gray.

I can smell yellow and orange but those are my least favorite colors.

I can feel auburn and crimson, one I like; the other courses through me.

I dream of bathtubs full of blood, but not the jail time.

Hi. My name’s Brett, and I’m not that interesting.