Damn, such drunken ramblings, typical of a broken fool. Many true points but presented sloppily and crudely.
It's just a good thing no one reads any of this shit.
It has gone a terribly wrong direction.
Repetitive and pointless. Topics of no interest to anyone, badly written.
From now on its only poetry and reviews of movies from the 80's...
post
I have totally fucked every aspect of my life. 'Ive nothing left. Going no where so fast. its not so funny.
You are not meant to do or be anything,
I cannot believe what i have become. this fucking laptop is broke, I cannot even type anymore without it jumping around and destroying my thoughts.
i have pure love and passion but no one cares. I do not deserve any of this?
repeatedly rejected for my blatant failures.
I am so fucking lost.
I love.
I hate myself.
It is just me and my pup. I knew it would be, it is all there is. I wish I could understand what is wrong with me. my failures continue. why cannot I be loved? Why cannot is what I feel anything?
Whiskey. $3
Will I ever be anything? I am aware of my potential. I hear it blatantly told to me by people whose opinion i greatly respect and do not bullshit, I know its real, I know I am real. Why does nothing ever happen?
I long for so many things, I dream so much, I have great passion, I always understood that it was most important, that is what drives, I have it, but there is nothing coming through.
help? no. I have never felt such a thing. only ridicule of my efforts.
here I am, no degree, no accomplishments, no name of myself. I am no writer, not a photographer, ha! not an artist, guffaw, you are not a label.
I want something, some reasoning.
rejection.
constant.
but not for real reasons, not of who i am or how i feel. I do not understand. I am not worth any effort yet I try so hard all alone.
I truly love my dog as he loves me. I cannot keep a real friend. I cannot be what anyone feels. I am alone, should be, meant to be, maybe try to be, but should not be. I feel, no one else does. I am hated, why? hated? that seems extreme. I'm not the best but I am so true, pure and real it should be respected. My efforts are a joke in general. I cannot stand existing as some stupid character meaning nothing to anyone while i try so hard
I had it all figured out but ran out of time. give it back!
I found a grey hair, not in my beard, those have been there a while, but in my beautiful mop. I am slowly dying. my friends have children the age that I feel I still am. I have nothing. I don't even own my own car. I have no degree, I have no reality. I am hated, most importantly by me.
I have but one true, repetitive dream I crave but seems to slip further and further away every day. I am so confused. so lost. i miss life.
Oh city, I hate you too, I love you so much. please make me happy, make me forget everything give me life, why? why not?
I had real thoughts when I started but here we are.
Whiskey.
You are not meant to do or be anything,
I cannot believe what i have become. this fucking laptop is broke, I cannot even type anymore without it jumping around and destroying my thoughts.
i have pure love and passion but no one cares. I do not deserve any of this?
repeatedly rejected for my blatant failures.
I am so fucking lost.
I love.
I hate myself.
It is just me and my pup. I knew it would be, it is all there is. I wish I could understand what is wrong with me. my failures continue. why cannot I be loved? Why cannot is what I feel anything?
Whiskey. $3
Will I ever be anything? I am aware of my potential. I hear it blatantly told to me by people whose opinion i greatly respect and do not bullshit, I know its real, I know I am real. Why does nothing ever happen?
I long for so many things, I dream so much, I have great passion, I always understood that it was most important, that is what drives, I have it, but there is nothing coming through.
help? no. I have never felt such a thing. only ridicule of my efforts.
here I am, no degree, no accomplishments, no name of myself. I am no writer, not a photographer, ha! not an artist, guffaw, you are not a label.
I want something, some reasoning.
rejection.
constant.
but not for real reasons, not of who i am or how i feel. I do not understand. I am not worth any effort yet I try so hard all alone.
I truly love my dog as he loves me. I cannot keep a real friend. I cannot be what anyone feels. I am alone, should be, meant to be, maybe try to be, but should not be. I feel, no one else does. I am hated, why? hated? that seems extreme. I'm not the best but I am so true, pure and real it should be respected. My efforts are a joke in general. I cannot stand existing as some stupid character meaning nothing to anyone while i try so hard
I had it all figured out but ran out of time. give it back!
I found a grey hair, not in my beard, those have been there a while, but in my beautiful mop. I am slowly dying. my friends have children the age that I feel I still am. I have nothing. I don't even own my own car. I have no degree, I have no reality. I am hated, most importantly by me.
I have but one true, repetitive dream I crave but seems to slip further and further away every day. I am so confused. so lost. i miss life.
Oh city, I hate you too, I love you so much. please make me happy, make me forget everything give me life, why? why not?
I had real thoughts when I started but here we are.
Whiskey.
Foolish one
What drives you? What do you live for? Dreams are just dreams, not goals. Goals are not climaxes but simple steps, minor achievements.
Fuck this, I have lost my ability to express.
No one reads or cares of this shit anyway,
or of me and my pathetic existence.
I know I don't...
Fuck this, I have lost my ability to express.
No one reads or cares of this shit anyway,
or of me and my pathetic existence.
I know I don't...
Scotch
I admit my style is stereotypical of that of an artist, a crazy person, or a bum. All three terms could easily be used to describe me as well. Though I'd prefer "artist", it's the one I must earn.
Lie and deny
I don't know what to believe anymore, I thought I could trust my own heart and follow it to some kind of achievement, a blissful dream even, but again I fooled myself and made a fool of myself in the process. O these torturous dreams of mine. Purest pleasures, intimate, deep feelings released and traded, a begging for my soul to let loose and feel it all. They must stop. Reality is now, though it sickens me, is and always will be as it is. I haven't control of my own thoughts, feelings, urges and cravings but they will eventually be snuffed by reality. Let us hope there will be a leveling off soon.
Gerald Ford?
You have done nothing in all the time? You are like an old man with no valid excuses, looking back and knowing everything, especially the everything impossible. Dreams are sickeningly vivid. Sad, passionate and full of such intense, pure energy. Again pleasures of the mind not achieved in reality, nor is there any hope of it, just a deep longing for things unexplained.
point.
You have expired, it is too late for dreams, childish fantasies of good times, pure of heart moments. Broken, rebuilt, re-self-created means little at this point. energies and urges must be ignored as the realities clash. You have lost in many ways and won in others...
Accept things, absorb petty praise and continue on.
Lose yourself within yourself and just be. Be something though.
I am on such an edge.
This whole thing is a mess...
Crazy, just fucking crazy, life is.
I do not know what to think or assume is what is.
Fast, short run of blinding experiences and harsh realities. Its almost over.
point.
You have expired, it is too late for dreams, childish fantasies of good times, pure of heart moments. Broken, rebuilt, re-self-created means little at this point. energies and urges must be ignored as the realities clash. You have lost in many ways and won in others...
Accept things, absorb petty praise and continue on.
Lose yourself within yourself and just be. Be something though.
I am on such an edge.
This whole thing is a mess...
Crazy, just fucking crazy, life is.
I do not know what to think or assume is what is.
Fast, short run of blinding experiences and harsh realities. Its almost over.
A whole lot of fucking up
I have nothing, I have way too much. A minimalist who owns one of everything worthless. My thoughts have no content, no inspiration or visions, no ideas of any kind. I do not create, I do not feel.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)