Why does weird shit always happen to me? I mean seriously, it’s like all the streetlights turn red once they see the hood of my Mustang rolling down the road. As if they are all conspiring with one another to prevent me from getting to my ultimate destination. They laugh at my sorrow as I sit at the light, with no cars to be seen within miles, all alone with my music and my red fucking light. The red light just stares, as if daring me to run it so that some donut-eating ticket-writing mustache-wearing douche bag can fly out of nowhere like Starsky & Hutch. Then he’ll condescendingly walk up to my window and as me where the fire is, while he chuckles at his cleverness. He’ll write me a ticket for running a light that never should have been red in the first place, all so that the red light can have some fun at my expense. I hate you red light, I hate you like I hate Nazis. Fuck red lights; fuck them in their stupid asses.
Pressure, pushing down on me, pressing down on you