Saturday, April 18, 2009

I Am A Failure #3

When watching TV, when watching a DVD, when listening to a CD, when carefully considering questions of religion and philosophy, I am failure.
The mirror always sees failure.
Petting a dog or rubbing it behind his ears, I fail badly. 
When I whistle, I fail badly as a whistler.
Taking an elevator, escalator, or bus, my failure is obvious.
When eating candy and cake and ice cream I am a dessert failure.
Remembering happy moments from elementary school, I am a failure.
This failing comes easy.
It actually feels good because it's so easy.
I was touching another human's ear, in a tender manner, and I was failing.
I was stating that I was a failure, failing.
When I was failing, I was a failure.
When I was considering the cartoon, failing.
Holding a bottle, failing.
Wearing my glasses, really failing. 
Walking through the grass is a type of failure.
Changing my clothes I feel really like a failure.
The way I fail at each spectacular moment is breathtaking. I look at these moments in a failing way. 
I love them in a failing manner. 
Using a hammer or an electric drill.
Reading a newspaper.
When I take a bath in my kids' bath water, I don't get as clean as I could. I am a hygienic failure.
When I skimp on my work-out, I am a fitness failure.
I am really failure-like. 
When I find certain definitions, I am failing in a dictionary sort of way. 
All this failure is moving along as planned. 
The failure is written into the text.
I am trying to change this sense of failure, but I am
not having much success. 
I feel like a failure often.
Sometimes, all alone, I feel like a failure.