Sex and Violence

Yea that's me sitting on the bed, well, that's me just waking up pant-less and confused.
The guy who was here last night is gone. Go figure.
You spend a whole day with someone you meet in the afternoon, and you think you know him. Now he knows where you live, he has you phone number, and most likely your email address.
But nobody's there, no one is calling, and you don't even own a computer,
Last night was good though; two punks spending the the day together, ending it with two great things:
Sex and violence
The punk concert contained more violence than inside the brilliant minds of those sadistic authors that everyone looks down upon. There was non-stop moshing and random objects being chucked around, not to mention the alcohol being added in to the mix. Hell, I even saw this poser-chick being hauled off in an ambulance-
I look down at the floor and notice a black shirt next to my pants that were obviously bought from a Hot Topic. The shirt wasn't mine.
To Hell with it; I put it on anyway after I dragged my pants back on ever-so-slowly. They reeked of beer and puke, as did the shirt. But who cares? I sure as hell don't. It takes alot to get used to this kinda of lifestyle. It adds alot of years onto'ya too. I'm only twenty, but that doesn't stop people from thinking I'm at least twenty-eight-or-so. Pretty tough way to live, but I don't see me changing anytime soon. Hell no.

The bed squeaks as I get up off of it and shuffle my feet towards the bathroom. Sure enough, I look like shit. My hair is a mess- which isn't a big difference than what it normally is when I actually do it- and my makeup has run down from my eyes making it look as if though I have two black eyes. At least I think one of them is actually a black eye...
To the right of me, the shower kept tapping my shoulder as if reminding me subliminally that I smelled awful and needed to get in for a change. For a moment I considered the idea, but that meant I'd have to take the clothes off I had just put on. Nah. The shower can wait.
Hours later I realized I was passing my day away by sitting on my couch in front of a smashed television.
I was definitely pathetic.
I couldn't even remember how I managed to get the damn baseball bat through the screen and how I got it to stay put in the T.V.
Or maybe I was pathetic because my life was so absurd, I couldn't even get off my ass or keep it out of trouble long enough to buy another T.V.
Either way I was pathetic, no doubt.
After another ten minutes of pondering, I decided to leave. I got into my thrashed car and stopped midway out of the trailer park.
I swear to God I've seen that vehicle somewhere...
My head hurts too much to try and remember where I had seen it, so I continued to drive away, wishing I knew where I was even going.

Almost at the right moment, the "local music store" seemed to have popped out at me, if you'd call it that. With that, I spent the next couple of hours rummaging through Cd's, trying to find ones I didn't already own. Good luck with that...