I'm just sick. I hate myself. I hate life. I am alone and deserve it. I should never feel good. I cannot enjoy a video, I cannot enjoy a film or a song, I do not deserve those short bursts of happiness or even contentment. I feel equal to the dreads of society. the brainless, thoughtless haters and those lacking in passion and understanding yet I am so opposite of their mentality. It doesn't matter when you are at the same level of financial contribution to society. When you share the same vices of "sex, drugs and rock & roll", even though we are all part of that, we all need it, we all have the same motivation to continue, the same rewards of life. It means nothing when you are at the bottom. I share the same deplority of a stock broker living on lake shore drive with his trophy wife, car and apartment, but we are in a different bracket and I am left judged and a loser. We both may be equally sad, equally failing emotionally and intellectually expressively but I am judged as the loser. Maybe based financially or by scene, Surviving paycheck to paycheck, fix to fix, quarter to quarter it is all the same. It is what fixes one can get in between, the needs suppressed in between, the loss ignored, the voids ignored, the emptiness ignored. It is all the same, we are all the same, the wretched ones, the real. I am the wretched one. So many of us are. I am the one. Join me, but please don't. I am better in my loneliness. I also know I am far from alone, especially in a city of pain. We reside in secrecy, it's the classy way to go, don't bitch, just keep fighting, keep being you, keep living. invest in that $2 keyboard so you can keep writing, invest in that $10 bottle so you can make it through another weekend, be proud of watching the sun rise rather than the darkness set on yourself, focus on the glimmers of hope, the peaks that make you think the future has something. Think about life, fight for life, take pleasure and endure it, soak it up, absorb every aspect of the juice that makes you cum, think of the universe that makes you mean something, even if it is that spec. If it weren't for specs there would be nothing. Atoms are but a fragment of anythings existence but if it weren't for multiples of these fragments there would be nothing. If you are nothing but a fragment, nothing but an atom of existence, you are still something, you still mean something, the more, the better, be an idiot, be a genius, its all the same, just be...
Don't rely on a damn thing, not even yourself. Maybe especially yourself. I'm not to follow my heart or mind or logic, just go. Things feel right or wrong, they linger or just dissapear upon walking away. Focus on the entire horizon...
Yes, here I am. it is a Thursday night. I am lonely, I am nothing. I have done nothing. Nothing is new, nothing is old. Sell some vintage, jerk off, get drunk, you are no one. I do not want life anymore. I remember things, I remember dreams, those are all price tags now. At the level of "if you need to ask, you can't afford", I feel no hope or inspiration. I feel no drive from seeing the wretched enjoy the same level, I truly have nothing and deserve nothing so I am content with my return. I hate myself as society does. I want to be simple, I want to not care and accept my fate, I want to be content but i just cannot. It is not pretentiousness wanting to be cool, or to be real, or whatever the fuck, it is just me wanting to be be me. why cant I be me? I don't even know who me is anyway, in retrospect. I am just a deviant of society nw. I an not an "American", I'm just some cur of society, some deviant of the underworld scraping by in some pathetic want but not through laziness, I like to work hard, I like to earn money, I like to be honorable and good, not by any standard but because that is who I am. I feel best when i work really hard and have money to help friends and others achieve, to have fun, to live and experience life at irs fullest. That is life, to live, to experienced, to be, to be ones self.. I am sttifle am suppressed.
I called out to you, did you hear me? You were so far away.
I thought I heard you.
I awoke in tears.
They won't stop.
Ah, the first cool night of the season... Put on that favorite coat that has been idle since March/April or so, check the pockets and see where life had left off at that point, maybe even look back and see how much progress has been made, how much better things are:
Expired cigarette coupons
Empty Trojan box (3 pack)
Unused carpenters pencil
One hitter in plastic bag w/trident gum
78 cents in change
Checkbook (one used)
1 2" screw
So everything's the same.. Fuck...