Again, again and again. Just the same again, again and again. Ever feel like that? Ever feel like a punching bag hanging helplessly in the dark corner of a lousy gym in center of a gloomy, hot concrete jungle? Ever feel like that?
Day in and day out just bam bam and bam. Again and again the same thing. Hanging down from a clunky chain and everytime you get hit the chains make that annoying sound. The sound that everyone loves and hangs on their windows and call it all cutesy and what not except with your chains it's much louder and is fatally annoying. Chinese water tap kinda torture. Ever feel like that?
Is it just me? Hanging in there hoping that the wall above just crumbles and gives me a tiny bit of relief. Hoping that the next time I tear open no one pits some high-performance sticky tape on me and throw me back on the chain and it all starts again. Bam. Bam. Bam. Ever feel like that?
What if it could scream? The rusting, dying, thinning, overused punching bag in a gym inside the bodega at the back, what if it could scream? What if the bag could communicate? Would it scream? Would it grunt in climatic ecstasy? Would it be silent? I can scream. But am I a punching bag? Would it be more acceptable for the bag to scream an not me? I bet someone would pin me down and then have the cops curb stomp me and the psychiatrists fill me up with needles if all of a sudden I screamed in middle of the road once I've had enough of being punched constantly repeatedly consistently in the gut. Yeah, I guess the punching bag would be better off screaming.
Wait, what? You don't feel like that? You don't feel like a cylindrical bag of skin hanging down from a cracking wall on a rusting chain? You don't feel like your mass is being reduced ever so slightly with every punch? You don't notice the wrinkles? and what about the sticky tapes holding everything inside? Nothing?
You don't feel like you are just being punched from every side and angle and there's every douche's sweat lingering on you because nobody cares enough to wipe after they are done and then they wonder why people find them shitty and no one really looks at you once with a glance of understanding and everyone is just there to punch and punch and punch and it doesn't matter what you have done, doing or going to because you just have to be punched punched and punched and your plans don't matter nor what you did just people punching punching punching and you hanging on and on and on hoping for the wall to crumble? No? Just me?
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