All my words

just awful. look, i’m an adult. my life sucks. i only have three things to look forward to every day. lunch, dinner, and sex. those are the three times i experience joy. everything else is terrible. so, trader joes, you’ve taken one of my three moments of joy for the day and completely destroyed it.   this potato salad is so bad i need to eat another meal to get the taste out of my mouth. how could you sell me this garbage? i thought you were one of the good guys. who on the trader joes product development team is responsible for this culinary disaster? who is to blame for this?

baby i’m sorry i’m like this. i’m sorry i don’t want to spend every day together like i used to. i’m sorry we’re not doing anything on thanksgiving. i’m sorry for making you so frustrated. i’m sorry that you hate your job. i’m sorry for laying it all out like this. i’m sorry i make you feel bad for texting me. i’m sorry you’re with someone so cold. i’m sorry your parents didn’t build you up like mine did for me. i’m sorry for chipping away at your innocence every time we talk, for making you just like me.   when i say i’m sorry, i mean only that. i feel sorry. i don’t mean that i apologize. i don’t mean that i see the fault in my actions or intent and will change in the future. i mean that i understand that you feel pain and i acknowledge that you are sad. the most i can do is to simply acknowledge it. i try to help you improve your condition but i’m learning more all the time that the only one who can improve somebody’s condition is themself.   i don’t just “hang out” with pe...

but when he pauses for my input i can only speak for about 8 seconds until he cuts me off. this may just be how men of business communicate.   i want to say: i will listen to you because you give me money, but my retention rate goes down dramatically after about 4 minutes of staring at your face listening to you monologue. ask me questions. i get what you’re trying to teach me but i hate to cut you off. but we might be able to save a lot of time if you just assume i’m really really smart.  

dear everyone from college  dear every online friend dear every single girl dear everyone i never called back dear everyone who was nothing but good to me dear every relative i never got to know dear everyone i’ve ever flaked on dear everyone i’ve ever lied to dear everyone i’ve ever used dear everyone i’ve ever mislead dear everyone i’ve ever pitied dear every teacher who gave me an extension dear every recruiter who has ever viewed my resume dear every person who has ever seen me on stage dear every person at my high school graduation dear every other text book narcissist raised by screens dear every person i’ve ever known. dear everyone who thinks they’ve ever known me. dear everyone: Your experience of ‘Thomas Johnston’ has been part of a social experiment conducted by Harvard University. We are sorry for the confusion and thank you for your participation in the fight against adult-onset Superautism. Do not reply. This is an automated message.  

mom, i’ve already promised like 6 people i’d call them. i think about it every day. i hate calling people. even if i like the person. i have nothing to say. feels like the more i give the less i am. the less i am a person who is anything or makes anything or goes anywhere and the more i am just somebody’s Good Friend.  dad’s the same way. everybody loves him. and i mean everybody. but he’s empty. he spent his whole life giving himself away to whoever happened to be around or near him and now he has nothing and is nowhere. perpetually drunk. accumulated nothing and feels the crushing shame of American Poverty and numbs it with booze and drugs. he may have set the world record for most “Good Friends” Made, most Drinking Buddies, but at the end of it all he has nothing and no one. and i look in the mirror and see more of him every day. i catch an awful glimpse of him in the black of my screen when i’ve been typing for too long and it gets hard to see the words. the reason it hurts so ...

Some guy in Advertising: Guys. Matthew Perry just died. Condolences to his family of course, but is this not a perfect opportunity to increase the budget on our FRIENDS campaign??   Promote all our ‘Friends’ reels, stick their stupid white faces on the front page of peacock netflix whatever the fuck - is it okay to start showing white people in ads again? just this once? you can’t miss out on the “celebrity just died” market. think of all the web traffic! think of the key performance indicators! we’re almost through Q4 guys lets finish strong! It’s what Chandler would've done!

I ’ve had it too good for too long. i’ve been able to think of myself as more or less physically attractive for the past several months now. having a girl helps. but yesterday i was watching myself on a tournament stream (sadly i tend to watch them more to see what people have to say about me rather than to analyze the gameplay) and came across a comment from one “epic bishly” who was confused for a moment thinking i was BC Top Player Lemmon and then commenting: “damn i was gonna say Taylor looks fucked up what happened XD” implying that i look like a “fucked up” version of Taylor Lemmon which hurts a little because sadly it’s true, and that’s the only time an insults really hits — when the target perceives it as accurate.   But yeah, bishly, I did look pretty fucked up that day. I failed to sleep all night on somebody’s terrible couch after eating several pounds of burger sludge and that combined with my general dark sickly look resulted in that. you got me. good job.   I lik...

whats up? how are you? how are things? give me a call when you’ve got a second. my dad: hey buddy, give your mother a call my mom: ya gotta call ya sista my sister: are you talking to mom and dad?   friend from college: hey man, whats been up with you? how you doing?   my girlfriend: hello? sorry if i’m annoying… my boss: im concerned you’re not very engaged at work. not part of the team i feel.     susan: hey thomas, hows your weekend? do anything fun? sales are really strong lately, good job! System Notification: To confirm using iCloud, confirm your iPhone passcode.

big white families. two of them. italians. endless backyards. cookouts. fireworks. those big inflatable pools. every holiday we got together. every summer we were outside.   no one on either side of the family was better off than middle class. early 2000s, rhode island, it didn’t matter. you could have a back yard back then. you could have a nice life.   best of all: no phones. they just let us “go play.” i have no idea what we did but i’m sure it was better than what kids do now. i got a look at my cousin’s playstation in 2007 and begged my mom to get me one. i wish she hadn’t. i wish she made me learn guitar instead. i wish she sent me to some kind of sports-oriented summer camp. i wish that this kind of technology was never unleashed on my child brain.