Turd T-Shirt Thursday: It’s Better To Die Alone Than To Live Together

Fresh off of the “Keep Calm and Carry On” trend and experiencing the confusion of young adulthood, the urge to find someone to be with feels like the torture vice scene from Casino. You don’t want to get the point where your eye pops out, so you get that ass out there and find a forever fuck buddy. Little did I know I should have just strived to die alone than to live together with anyone.

Everyone remembers that euphoric diarrhea fever dream of a show called Lost, where a show’s series finale was so confusing that I cried out of frustration. Many years later, I now understand that the show’s premise was to piss me off and make me feel. Rude.

I had purchased this on Shirt Woot a very long time ago and also bought a matching shirt for a person whom I thought I would have lived together with until the end. Therefore having two beautiful children, sharing an apartment, and living life taking on all challenges.

But that’s another fever dream that I died from and resurrected, vowing that I want to live forever alone. Individuals sometimes never reach goals because someone purposely holds you back with no other motive than for their amusement. I suffered from a lack of motivation, spirit, and purpose. Instead of being taken out of my stay-at-home-mom shell of despair, insecurity about my body, and inability to provide not only for me but my sons healthily created this garbage monster you see today. My motivation struggles to realize a point to all of my active engagements. My spirit is apathetic and defiled. My purpose is to eradicate all the thoughts of hope of experiencing happiness in its purest form ever again in this lifetime. I am merciless.

I cannot count how many times I’ve been raped by my poor judgment of character in an individual because I didn’t want to die alone. I’ll never forget laying on my back and bawling because I didn’t want to but had to because I had no choice. It’s what they thought I needed to feel better and to forget all the other stuff and fuck the pain away.

I stopped drinking heavily, and I still smoke copious amounts of weed that I grow. I’ve taken some classes to improve my writing skills and other abilities. I learned how to cook and bake. I exercise when the motivation feels right. I have the unfortunate circumstance of still sharing a living space with this person. That’s the one thing I can’t steer clear of.

I deserved it. Every day, month, and year of it. My innate kindness made me believe that what stood before me was love and all joys it could offer. And I am at peace being the dumb piece of shit that writes these words today. I’ve put myself on a pedestal as high as the mistakes I’ve taken in my path, and I’m stretching out my hips to perform the perfect squat to take a dump on the metaphorical face of my past. It was shit then, it is shit now, and it will be shit in the future. I can’t ever forget that.

And so, to future suitors- I never want to be touched ever again in my life by a man, and I would rather die alone than live with or be with anyone else ever again. Fight mode has been unlocked; you have him to thank for that. Too bad though, I’m a great piece to bring home to Mom.