Something That Is Not There

Peter was blissful, if it took shit to make bliss, Peter was bliss itself. He took a long drive, in the early hours, when everyone was asleep, the roads were empty. He had a frustration built up in his system, he wanted to fuck it all out. He wanted a beautiful girl to have for the night and give her the time of her life. It was a sort of therapy for Peter. But since he didn't have a beautiful girl, and he could never grow a big enough pair to talk to one, he was satisfied with a drive. He put the pedal to the floor, "I've got mine, but I want more!!!" He yelled out the car window as he sped by the trees, the stop signs, and the lights that were green. He wanted to be mean, but he couldn't be. He drank from a bottle, it was colored green, it helped him forget, and also raised his chances of getting in a car accident. He didn't fucking care. All he had was his long hair, which he always kept in a bun. He lit another cancer stick, he dreamed of what could happen tomorrow. He just wanted to make love, that was the way to his heart. If you could please Peter, he would love you forever, he would keep you satisfied, he would fuck you all night, but you have no time for him, "so why the fuck should I make time for you?" He wasn't worthy of love, but he wanted a lover, he was worthless but he was looking for someone to make him worth while. He wanted someone that could prove him wrong and make him feel strong. He thought he found it, but it was only a song, he sang, he screamed "my heart is slowly drying up!" It made him feel secure, secured in his solemn cage. He needed to get away, desperately, but no one gave him attention, if they ever did, they wouldn't get his. Peter ranted "I don't want to make this decision, can't you make it for me?" He waited on fate to answer but it never replied to his questions. He took another swig, at this point, not even alcohol could soothe his pain. He would still have to wake up in the morning, bright and early, he would still have to work for a living, and he would still have to live this worthless life he was given, he wanted to make more of it, but he didn't know how to. He was looking for an answer, but all life would give him was more questions and more decisions. He put them aside and waited for a reply. "Just tell me the fucking answer, I'm sick of guessing, wondering, and waiting....."