the overgrown child sits on the chair, perched, like an iguana soaking the vvitamin rich warm rays of the sun only he feels the nutrients come in the attention, you are fucking cool form and somebody in the room does care and thinks he is fucking cool and likes him because he wears the shiny department store shirt and calls people on his cell phone that he knows he doesn't need to talk to he knows they are not home but he is getting that feeling again and mommy bought him the phone because he was depressed about the recent ally mc beal tv show and he leaves a message and says a cool phrase in the hopes that he will magnetize the attention rays towards his direction with his cool phrases and talk and bright clean shirt that covers the scars and he doesn't get it because she is much more interested in the book that lies on the table and she is more interested in the man or woman that will listen to her as she can visually tell he will fail to do.
he came for no real reason or purpose, onlyto hope to maybe get lucky because there would be some slutty chic that is drawn to men like him and maybe she will think he looks smart because mommy bought him those cool new glasses that he saw that cool guy wearing in the perfumed magazine and he flipped the page and saw herd of people that look kind of like him wearing bright name brand clothing and shirts and he wanted it all and moomy bought it for him.
and he paces through a stack of papers that he has collected that don't really mean anything, but the room is quiet and he seizes the opportunity for a stare and he makes it louder and hopes that she will say to herself that this guy has his shit together because he has a stack of papers in a folder and some nice glasses and even a hat with a nice catchy logo from that store that everybody like shops at but that is just in case because he never forgets to comb his hair into that daily shape and he hasn't forgotten the line must be visible from now till the end all the way from the start. and he combs his hair and the girlies like it and they like that sense of insecurity about hime but they are afraid when he gets angry and he gets angry often because nobody ever taught the kid how to relax and he screams bad words and punches things to alleviate that anger and the girlies don't see it, they only see the cute little poop see woo that he portrays to them..
he pulls his communication device from his North face bag that mommy bought him at that really cool sprting goods store in the mall and it matches his north face jacket and pants and sweatshirts so very well and he calls his biy and says what up yo i'm just chillin here clocking the hoes yo in that northwestern suburbs dialect that all the cool kids use that they got from those bad kids in the city, but the suburban kids are nicely secured from that evil innercity and they can live their own inner city life far from the city lights....
he makes another call and makes plans to go to the bar that all the cool kids go to after class so that they can keep checks on fashion and hairstyles and who is fucking who. hmmmm...what beer to choose? x light, xx light, xyz light, or zxy light? i know they all taste the same but i wonder what everybody else is drinking right now? maybe i should find buddy boy and see what he has, then i will rebel and get a different beer and he will say what does that taste like and i will be like oh all right wanna try it and it will taste the exact fucking same, but he will be like i like that it tastes allright,and then next round he will grab one...