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I just ate chicken from a can that was donated to a pantry for poor people (expired?) which is wher I got it. I feel like shit on so many levels, from within physically and mentally. I have nothing, I missed everything, I miss everything. I never thought I'd be here even when I imagined my worst case scenerios as a youth, I expected to at least find contentment in simplistic levels of life or "getting by". I am an ultimate failure beyond any measure of others or society, beyond a comparison to peers or even globally, I'm a waste of myself, a stupid nothing with none to offer, no potentially idiot savant or brilliant suppressed entity, just literally nothing for no reason. There is small amounts of fight left in me but very, very little hope or reason. I hate life, love and existence, I don't hate the world like an angst teen of the 90's, but I certainly hate my world, which I apart tilt created and control, I made myself, I hate myself. There is nothing left of me. Potential is a strange word, dreams are literally such, hope is like masturbation, I'm so broken, in so many pieces, in such drastic measurements, in such emptiness. Convince me otherwise temporarily as I do myself, once you or I get off opinions will change. Reality will come back and prevail, control and show itself proudly. 
I'm sick 
So sick
Of everything, from everything, as a result of natural flow and life. 
It is.

Nevermind

I thought I found love but then I dropped it, I don't know where it went, it might have rolled under the fridge... Fuck it...

Now

I really want to start my life. I have so many visions and ideas. I need a partner though, I'd hate to admit. I think I may have one but it's not in stone. I'm lost with only an "idea" of what I want and must do. Things may implode once again and collapse but could equally blossom and explode in a vibrant glow of hope and destined happiness. It's one or the other...
I'm lost.
I do not know my next move. I'm a mess but with a vaugue plan. I have dreams with equal nightmares along side. My heart is barely a factor yet should be the drive. 
I know nothing. 
I've ruined everything.
Life could be wonderous.
My name is rubbish.
Help and I will please you.

Sync

Day and night

I don't want to sleep anymore, my dreams are haunting me. Pathetically tearing in my sleep. I don't cry, but apparently I do. Wretched saline wakes me in the night or encrusts my eyes as I find then un-openable in the morning. Horrible, horrible reality found in even the most mystical of worlds. Peace isn't found, it's all kind of a joke. I miss so much. It's driving me mad. Mostly sad...

How I miss that being, that beautiful form, that soul that connected me. She is so gone, so hateful of myself. It is so hard to give up but so rational and correct, yet so completely wrong. 


Mild.

This binge is killing me. I'm nearly through. I don't want to be normal, but general structure, even vague, keeps me on track and this is becoming a mess. Time is precious and I am butchering it, sleeping or working it away, fizzing it away, I've barely kept up with myself. The coin isn't as good as it seemed, or the sacrifice did not seem clear until hindsight.
At least I still know what's going on.
I think so anyway.
I just need to pull over, park for a bit.

slump

Binge working again. The last two days were 40 hours alone, cramming a week into a 48 hour period is a strain but I've hungered for work for a while now, I needed this.
Future endeavors have more promise as well, a structured respectable position is on the horizon. In the mean, I will at least be making money...
Saturdays and Sundays are no longer "weekends", but simply "days". I am always willing to get paid.
I miss my pup but that is about all I've to come home to, so it makes it a little "easier" to lose myself in work. Although my physical body is showing me it's broken and worn age in the un-ignorable pain I literally feel everywhere.
If only I had some tea.. .

Soon enough, get ahead, pay a few death's tolls and I will have fragments of freedom.
It is all I really require, even if only in short moments of tiny peaks. I am deserving of little in many ways but striving for so much, still in the fight and still digging out.

Either, or, I must now briefly rest with my scotch, no rocks...