Fine art 2nd edition

Eventualnesses

In the end, I will not be a nobody. 

Trust no one

On the upside, I'm drunk. I guess that's something. I am so alone.

H B day...

I have no future, no career, no prospects, my soul mate said "fuck you", I have no children, I have little to no physical possessions (even fewer I care about) and nothing to show for thirty-fucking-seven years of existence, at least twenty years of effort with nothing to say or be as a result. I'm nothing at this point, I'd rather be bitching about my "settled" life and it's mild pleasures but instead I have nothing but regret and loss. Nothing. Oh fuck, nothing.

Quila

Now

Drunken, watching back to the future II on a tiny tube. Is as it is...

But then I did it anyway...

Get back

I'm just fine...

Another song of life...

Bottom feeder by Soltero

Valley

Another good clicker.

  listen...

On my way

Here again

There's nothing like that Sunday morning crash of reality engaging crippling depression and a new found emptiness.

Let's get the fuck out of here

as warm as 5 o'clock

Then, or now, I don't know.

Things are.

You miserable little prick

I cannot breathe, the clouds are growing and building a pressure that cannot be contained or released. Rolls of transparent thought trickle and serpentine the filthy textures of warm existence. Passages enclose further, restrict what little flow there once was. Electric nails prod and scratch where stones meet. There's an annoying haze on everything.

Fine Art (print)

Ballzz

Tuesday?

Restrictions

Friend

Poor choices

Yes you are.

2nd time

I am a mistake.

Kick it old skool

Sounds: Forever heavy

Another year wasted alive

Why, indeed...

It's only a little worse than before...

I should have just kept all of this to myself. That was a bad idea to be sure. O, I am full of those. Such as career choice, thinking I was worthy of chasing dreams, following my fucking "heart", not ending it all in an explosive blaze of glory when I had the chance, the choice to continue, to assume things would improve with time and effort. No, no, no. It was all the wrong way.
Keep your fucking mouth shut. Do not ask for help, pity, or most importantly: love. One cannot ask for life, one cannot ask for anything. Take what you want but know that nothing is ever yours. Only solitude, regret, self-worth (and the lack of) is yours.
Why did you do that? Why would you even say anything? Ah, foolish self. Shut off your mind. You know you're fucked, you know what you did and what you deserve. You know you are exactly what you are.
I want to quit so badly. Who fucking cares anyway? Being strong headed is over rated, really means nothing. No one even notices, not even me.
Stop, stop this all. I am sorry. Sorry to all, sorry to me. Sorry I showed up. Sorry for ever trying.
10 Days...

Stop

I don't want to do this anymore. I don't enjoy anything anymore, there is such bleak emptiness and surges of pain and loss. I really don't...

Yes?

What the fuck am I doing? I'm a mess, I'm sure I've an ulcer. I have four jobs and three girlfriends, I'm still fucking broke and lonely. I've created nothing, felt so little, given up so much, I cannot see a thing. I need everything and deserve none of it but I don't even know why it is. It just is, as it always is. I'm tired, I'm bored, I'm sick and alone. Self loathing poet of nonsense. Too much, not enough, nothing happens, things are, they do and will. Oh, you fool, you had it all when you had nothing. Here. Just take it. I no longer desire it or anything else.