This blog has not lived up to its name.

The last couple of posts have not been random ramblings. They’ve been poems. They were not written by an insomniac because I’ve been sleeping like crazy day and night. I feel in the pit of my stomach a sorrow like no other, the sorrow of one who has failed others. Now however is my chance to redeem myself, but I’m half-assing it. This post is a poem as well, but at least it was written in the middle of the night (it is currently 1:40 AM). I love and hate this poem at the same time. Please don’t judge me.


There were two assholes on the street

And one of them was me


To my right the asshole spoke

He said that wisdom is

And never will



And so began a journey

By yours truly

The asshole

To discover

Or rediscover

What the other asshole meant


How beauty can deceive you

If you look at it too closely

How others can perceive you

If you look at yourself too closely

All these things they mattered

But all these things are not


The other asshole meant


Soon life can creep up on you

You’ll find yourself forgotten

You’ll trade honor for self esteem

You’ll find sorrow in happiness

And you begin to see

The truth


I tried

I really tried

And very hard as well

But I could not understand

And I would not understand

What the other asshole meant


What an asshole


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