ClocksDeclaring is doing 42 things including…

post letters here that i would never send

5 cheers

 

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ClocksDeclaring has written 13 entries about this goal

Grandma.

I had a bunch of (what I thought was) profound shit in my head on the way to pick up my mom (your daughter) from the bar.

Mostly it consisted of my recent realization that I’m your only granddaughter and I just want to make you proud. So proud. But I’m confident that your daughter D and uncle K, if they could have children, let alone a girl, she would be wonderful.

I know I didn’t talk to you a whole lot, but when I did you always knew. Knew what? I don’t know, but you knew what you needed to. And right now I want to fucking talk, Grandma.

I’m waiting for fists to fly alongside the words. They argue like I’m not sitting right fucking here.

And for once Grandma, I opened my mouth. While simultaneously breaking one of my rules.

Don’t talk to drunks if avoidable.

The results were expected, and I don’t know why I bother.

Now I’m just fucking tired and want sleep but can’t for fear of drunken parents and I have to pick my brother up at 12:30 and I have work in the morning (unlike some drunk fucks) and I just…

I didn’t mean for this to become another booze rant, Grandma. Especially when I never talk to you. And this is really just a bad, fragmented version of what I wanted to say…

I just don’t know what to do.

Other than whine for attention on the internet, it seems.

I want this as a reminder to myself later, though. Reminder of what, I’m not sure.

Just know I love you Grandma, and I miss you.



Hey,

Being a janitor/custodian is not the same as a maid. You people are grown adults; kindly act like adults.

I already have to clean up after you filthy f*cks, I don’t appreciate having to do your dirty dishes as well. That is not my job, and you can happily read my job description.

Also, really? Can’t you, at the very least, throw away your trash…? Don’t just leave it sitting there; put it in the damned trash can.

Tots in daycare clean up after themselves better than you lot do. Sheesh.



JK,

You’ll have to excuse me for being an awkward conversationalist. It doesn’t help that I’m so out of my comfort zone in these situations that I can’t tell if you’re being nice to me in general or if you’re flirting… Especially when it’s at work and I’m all gross and covered in dirt – and who knows what else. There’s little to no confidence in me at those times.

Otherwise… I’m sorry I’m so awkward!

But your nickname choices are still lame. xD The best so far is Gandalf, but I don’t have a beard, nor am I a dude, so… Keep trying. Though I have to admit, the only thing I can think of for you so far is J Kelley (only ‘cause of R. Kelly), so at least you’re trying…?

But you’re a super nice guy. You’re just confusing the crap out of me. D:



Uhm,

Let me start by saying I mean no disrespect of any kind, nor intend any slurs. Or anything related that someone may take offense to.

But… The hell? Do I have an Indian-boy magnet on me or something? Not to mention Indian boys that somehow manage to make me feel really awkward and toss out compliments that I already have a hard time taking anyway.

Okay, so it’s not just because you’re Indian, it’s a thing with me about guys. But you’re not the first, and I just don’t know what to say to you now. At all.

This seems more like something I should put on Facebook, but one of the said boys is on there and can see what I post. So. I just wanted to share things that no one wants to read…?

So… You, don’t be surprised if I never ever reply to your texts again.

Jus’ sayin’.



Dear a,

Fuck.

That was the first thing I thought when I saw your text pop up on my phone, and the only thing I thought all the way home from class tonight.

“I like YOU ALOT MORE than a friend :D”

Let’s forget that the first thing I noticed was ‘alot’.

And how do I respond to that…?

“uh, I’m sorry, but… I’malesbian.”

No, just kidding. But I really don’t know what to tell you. Last time someone said that to me I agreed to dating simply because I felt bad saying no. I don’t wanna put you through that, especially since I now completely ignore the other guy.

I… I don’t even know what to write here. I told you I want to hang out more before your response, but now I don’t know how to face you. And you know where I work. Two of the places, anyway (and if you find the third I fucking give up).

I… I don’t feel like I know you well enough, y’know…? And for some reason so far I’m interested in slightly older, taller-than-me men. Which I think you are, but not that much taller. And you just seem so… YOUNG. You’re what, just turned 19? You’re fresh outta high school! You’re like a baby to me for some reason, and to try to cheer myself up I’ll say, “I don’t tap that shit, man.”

... I’ve just got it so hard, don’t I?

/sarcasm hand is raised, btw.



Dear a few people, because this involves a few of you,

Firstly, I now have my college schedule almost figured out, no thanks to some of my professors. They expect us to check our email over the summer but they don’t? /sigh All I have left is to get a reccomendation letter from you, Rich… I’ll email you again but if you don’t answer it doesn’t do much good.

And dad, Chad’s jokes about me coming home with a black boyfriend my not be too far off base, if this guy that stopped in to work has anything to say about it…

“I got a friend who goes to the university in town, likes games great guy, but he’s black. But don’t be a sissy, he’s a good guy, here’s my email, email me if you wanna get in touch with him. When do you usually work?”

I was going to say something like, “Eh, once a week, sadly. The boss doesn’t give me much hours.” And then I would have made a jab at you, Coop, to divert him so he couldn’t send the guy in when I work. But instead you tell him exactly when I usually work, damn you… /sigh So now I got this guys email and I dunno what to do with it. Pfft.



Dear alcohol,

If this is what you do to people, you can just go fuck yourself.

I will never touch you. NEVER. Because the only way I will ever be in the state I now see the person before me in is if I am drugged. I would sooner attempt to amputate my own limbs than touch a drop of you.

I wish you’d get your slimy fingers off of the people I love and care about. But I also realize that they themselves have to want it, too. But if your were a living thing I would beat you within an inch of your life and make you wish you never existed.



Rice krispies and hamburger steaks (I'm sorry for my dirty sailor's mouth)

Dear both of you,

I have a wonderful list full of words I would so love to tell/call you almost (if not every) time I see you two. As far as I know you don’t know each other, and personally, we should probably keep it that way.

First, rice krispies. I can’t sell shit. I’m sorry I wasn’t born a goddamn salesman. If I were, I sure as shit wouldn’t be working for your fat, bitchy ass. Also, sorry I’m not that damn good at getting things stocked and on shelves, but you know, when there’s a constant stream of people coming to my register, it takes time to run back there to help them, try and sell your FUCKING rice krispies and tell them about the survey, then to run back to wherever I was and get in the groove again. You constantly talking down to me and pointing out that every thing I do is wrong (which I could take if you didn’t say it to me like I as fucking retarded) doesn’t make me work any fuckin faster!

Hamburger steak, it’s pretty much the same spiel for you. I don’t wanna come home from rice krispies bitching at me to hear you do the same. And not in the same “you’re retarded god I hate having to tell you what you did wrong all the damn time” tone of voice.

To sum up, fuck ya both.



Four wheelers

Dear good sir,

When I first saw your four wheeler at work, I didn’t know it was yours, and wondered who would have one that worked with us. It didn’t seem like anything anyone there would own. I should have known a little better than that.

When I found out it was yours, I found myself imagining you driving it while I rode behind you with my arms wrapped around you. And I keep thinkIng about it. Over and over. Now I’m tempted to make a goal involving just that. Probably shouldn’t be with you, though, considering your situation.

Damn it I wish I didn’t like you so much.



Dear E,

Why are you trying to talk to me again? It’s been… what, a year or better since the last time? I don’t know how to talk to you, nor do I want to.

And your random call to our house was unappreciated and weird. Don’t do that anymore. Especially when I’m watching a freaky movie – I don’t like it when freaky things happen while I’m watching a freaky movie.

So… stop it. Please.



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