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...
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.
That was unexpectedly expected.
My little honey sends me on my way, the "you know I don't want to hurt you, but..." routine. Thats ok, walk in a cold drizzling rain that is bent on extinguishing my cigarette to my car, oh a ticket, thats so 80's. I'll happily pluck that love note out from under my wiper.Toss it into the back seat with the rest of my feelings. Thats ok too. Oh look, I'm out of money and get nothing for two weeks. Many wise decisions were made, many things panned out to ultimate satisfactions. Everything is fine...
Thursday night (late)
Sore dizzying planted scrolls of the minds wasted times and efforts bringing out the worst in the highest peak of great times. Fusing stupidity with nectar and oily sparks trace the letters on the wall as I lay thoughtless and consumed with revelations personal. Letting the mind go, letting the facts fall to the side in slippery flashes of importance. Once there was a.
Sibleyteenthity
Through good and bad. Unexpected challenges and obstructions, even bizarrely so in times. This forever family has to go too. I will get as much from it as I can with what's left of it. Life is nearly over, truly shorter than they say. Every little piece left of odd numbered days must be used in its full potential, if in no other way than emotional peaks. Everything is so liquid and temporary.
"and so we dance and drink and screw, because there's nothing else to do"
-pulp
Lose yourself within yourself while being yourself. Pure, real and fucked up.
This is all too specific.
Candles burning of piss and coffee stained televisions cooling tiny rooms of dust erupting from voids north and east. Just look when you must, only when getting up. Stumble to another flickering light and find release. Cycle it up. Roll it, repeat. Do what you must. Find what you need. You will just keep waking up. One cannot deny the paper sound effects and simulated warmth. Brief as it all is. There is the moment. Then there is nothing, then maybe another moment. Mostly nothing, but enjoy what you can and don't bitch in between.
Watching how cold it is has helped improve my wages.
Those cords will never fit.
"and so we dance and drink and screw, because there's nothing else to do"
-pulp
Lose yourself within yourself while being yourself. Pure, real and fucked up.
This is all too specific.
Candles burning of piss and coffee stained televisions cooling tiny rooms of dust erupting from voids north and east. Just look when you must, only when getting up. Stumble to another flickering light and find release. Cycle it up. Roll it, repeat. Do what you must. Find what you need. You will just keep waking up. One cannot deny the paper sound effects and simulated warmth. Brief as it all is. There is the moment. Then there is nothing, then maybe another moment. Mostly nothing, but enjoy what you can and don't bitch in between.
Watching how cold it is has helped improve my wages.
Those cords will never fit.
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