State Of Distress
Written By: Ash Catcher
I need to split myself into fourths.
I know this is impossible of course.
But if I had a me, whose only job was to cook, and keep the house clean.
Well maybe I would have the time to go to the gym, to squeeze into those jeans,
But hey I guess that isn’t the case, because for the 4th time this week I am too tired to masturbate.
I got way too much on my plate, I guess that is because I haven’t caught you up to date.
I skipped lunch again today, not because I wasn’t hungry, there was just no time.
Time? That construct, that thing that seems to last a lifetime.
I have never heard it constructed that way, it almost seems fictitious.
I can't trust you if you bake anything but golden delicious.
Split myself in 6, well if we have someone to front the 5 of us, that may just be the trick.
I am almost out of ideas, because I am seeing the end of this wick.
I am sure there will be days where we all go out of our minds, things are all about.
The things one does for a breakout roll, when it is not their show, socialist clout trouts.
Swimming up stream with nothing to tether them to their reality of make-believe.
Where they live stream how much they have “achieved”
All without leaving their rooms.
Well I guess you can do a lot when you don’t have to inhale exhaust fumes.
Because your generation will never know what it’s like to commute.
Contributing to the decaying conversation, pending on lawsuits.
That is far too much for you to endure.
Oh I apologize, I should have known your life story, how many weeks premature?
I am chill no big deal, just that I constantly hear screaming in my ear,
I think it's there anyway, easy to clean up in my head, my peers are all present accounted for and here.
Nitpicking what I do consistently.
Micromanaging yourself is the key.
When you do not know what to do in a state of distress.
Just hunker down, and trust the “process”