(no subject)
Just drug me up. Vicodin, Valium, Weed, Booze. cigarettes, damn. right now, it seems like the world, and myself, is laughing and pointing at me. i don't know where i belong. i'm having a hard time remembering who i am. i have no idea what i'm doing with my life anymore. i don't like doing the things i used to do.
i'd like to just see dark. wear shades all the time. things just seem easier when they're only partially pure.
my room is the path of my life. but i'm not going anywhere. all the money wasted, all the needless shit, and i don't even recall why i have it.
i can close my eyes and type, because i know what the keyboard looks like in my mind. but it won't be perfect, because i can't see it. that's sort of how life is.
i'm cold. i'm lonely. i need to see you so much.
it's easier to type with your eyes closed...it's easier to let your thoughts flow and your soul to melt onto the canvas.
it's all over my head. who are you? all of you? i'm sorry that i don't know. i'm sorry i don't know you. i've hurt so many, and i don't realize.
i'm selfish aren't i? i'm cocky aren't i? i listen and i critisize. i eat and taste, but with a tainted tongue. it's the same way with life...i think.
i want to work hard. i want to get fit. i want to look good for my goddess. i want to pursue a dream and support myself my own way.
but i've lost hope. in so many....esecially in myself.
painkillers...muscle relaxants. drugs, booze.
who am i?
why am i here?
i've hurt you. i hurt you aagin. i keep hurting.
and i don't hurt long enough for any sort of understanding.
shit happens, but it happens. oh well, what else can i do. take it as it comes, and take it as it comes.
the speed of life is overwhelming. preparation is not going to do anything for me. not anyone. preparation only leads to disappointment. disappointment only leads to depression. and depression leads to where i am now.
but it's wierd...little things. a voice, a note, a stream of thought, a joke....it can change things so easily.
...
my room is covered with frail objects. just as i am by my skin.
materialism is only life. life is only what you've got. - for some it's what you'll have. but still, isn't that just preparation for a personal gain?
what do i believe in anymore? who am i? why am i? where do i go from here?
so many things to say to you people- personal anguish, beefs, compliments, apologies...affection.
life is too short to owe anybody anything.
life is too short for us.
why try. why bother.
because it's like a game
it's like the game of life.
it's like you work, and work, and work. and the pressure builds...then you get a two day tease.
isn't that all that life is? work, work, and a break?
isn't that what you want? a break? don't we want to see eachother...don't we want to be with one another.
who says that it's wrong to do certain things?
laws...
laws...they're subjective.
we've been trained, and we abide.
maybe the criminals aren't so wrong.
they could just be the reality coming out in our race.
and yet we condemn them.
who is to say who we are. we cannot even begin to understand who we are personally, what right do we have judging others? what right do we have to talk in anything but questions and requests?
wouldn't that help...if we just questioned everything.
is paper white? or is it just a shade of life? what is white? it's word.
i don't know what the fuck i'm talking about anymore.
i'm tired, i'm exhausted.
i'm stressed on a break. i need my...i need her. please come back to me...please.
i'm a sad excuse for anything decent.
i've hurt so many of you. and over again.
the worst part, i think, is that...is that i don't know when i do.
and then it get's left unresolved.
im lost in the center of life. the road signs don't help
i don't know, and i don't care
i'm crossing paths with them all.
my roadmap is torn.
this is how it goes, i suppose.
walking blind
it's what we all do isn't it?
isn't your faith your map?
i have no faith
i'm lost.
and yet, i don't want faith. i want my life. i want to stop hiccuping.
i want bells to ring in my ears, a bell that reminds me of who i am.
photos are irredecent time lapse consortiums.
distortion is a part of life. and so is all this. it's just a part of the great scheme.
whatever the fuck that is.
you ever eat a sunnflower seed and get a rotten seed?
that's kind of like life.
you ever pick up the phone and nobody's there?
that's kind of like life.
when you're lying down, and you roll over because you're uncomfortable...that's kind of like life.
when you realize that you are nothing but life itself....
that's the way it is.
life is an illusion. life is what you make it.
and right now, my mind is blank, and so is my canvas, brushes, and so is my soul.
i rub the eyes that i'm given. but i don't want them anymore. i don't need them. without them i woulnd't feel all these things.
without a mind i wouldn't either.
scibbles
brushes
circles....
regrets and life. i regret my life. i regret it in a way that i don't.i regret life being life itself.
i regret living the same life as the rest of you.
i want to ride my own bus. i want to write my own words
i want to be who i am.
but there's not enough room on any bus for that.
fresh air is only for forgetting.
relieving the fog you took in earlier....from the workers, the tv, and radio. the people who u talked to. the strangers who gazed at you on the street...the ones that have more of an impact on you than your closest companions.
i miss it.
i miss the blur,
i miss you.
i miss it all so much.
i miss it all, but i don't know what it all is,
i don't have anything to miss, because nothing has happened, and nothing continues to.
i'm nothing in a pot of nothing.
i've been boiled off and cast away...like everybody.
but all i wanted was to sink so low that i could remain.
just a little while longer.
remain.
and be there.
remaining.