rolling stone

my love beads can't take me anywhere. i'm stuck in a rut, but what's funny and eternally confusing for me is that i made this decision of scrambling my life and letting close-to-home struggles get the better of me. but profuse justifications won't take me anywhere, and my rolling stone just isn't budging. here i am, back in square one, razzled, dazzled, fazzled, but on a clean, empty slate. i hate myself for being a hillbilly, and i can't blame anyone else in this fucking place, but my chromosomal preferences. i hate being a bum, but i have to slap myself on the face soon so i can finally get it on, instead of vomiting on someone who shows me the least bit of affection.