life commentary, poetry, personal writings and photograpy

Why?

I feel like death today, it took my whole weekend from me. Crippling on multiple levels. In a wet wad of scarce consciousness for 14 hours. Bones, muscles, all the complicated moving parts ache and creak with movement. I am not weak but this feels like weakness. I hate it. I hate this idle suppression of my needs, wants and direct responsibilities. I'm fucked up in the worst way. It's not even payback for having too good a time. Sleep it off as you must work in mere hours...

O

What the fuck am I doing? Update your fucking self. When and why did any of this happen?

I have an "arrogant artist attitude", ha, even when insulted it's still kind of a compliment. That's done though, it was real, but not real fun.

Here it is.
Pup.

I've nothing left.

Unexpected situations

Things are reversed in odd ways, new versions of old hopes, more energy than time, companies and individuals owe ME money of significant number, considerable respect, accomplishment, strange hope.
Is this another false clinging to a few profound words, maybe even accidental ones? Is this just another path to a painful, poor choice based on heart driven madness and passion that is truly one sided nothingness to be played?
I can do absolutely anything, even be the best, but is it really just to fuel it with such passion? There are reasons to do right, passion brings the greatest results, and usually very quickly, but if left incomplete, could be the most destructive, damaging experience of a lifetime.
lets us just "do right" and see what happens. Good men achieve their true, deepest dreams of happiness, correct? It is my understanding that things must work this way in some karmic, epic movie-ending like way.
Somehow I will have this.

cracked

I am all over with worthless emotion and absurd dreams. I cannot give, I know I must, I have been nothing but trying for so long, it's not in me, it is too true and too real to deny it. I cannot stand it, it is the greatest feeling in the world, the most wretched, painful pleasure of any kind. It sickens me and makes me stronger. It drives me and collapses my whole being. It is my core and my fraudulent shell.

Cured, in temperary bursts.

Another slump of blatant failure, many influences to descend but a drive to not let it. Finding no "other worldly" ways to block it, it is time for another long, draining and charging bender. The alcoholic benders, the three day parties, the sexcapades, etc., must alternate with each other. Which brings me to the all important work bender. A few weeks of constant, intense, focus on important jobs, projects and ideas breaking through and accomplished. I am back to juggling three jobs and I have added at least two other serious personal projects in the mix, such as prep for a gallery and even some fucking expression. Weekends are just days. Sunlight is unnecessary. Sleep is such a waste. I wonder where I could be if I kept my head straight and just knew how to balance all of this shit. If I didn't crash. I have a headache.

Well this is a fucking joke.

A pathetic rut of repetitive disappointment. I do not know what to feel anymore. I cannot see anything solidly sure of a future other than the failures and shortcomings sure to come.

My heart still belongs in a place it will never be, my mind is only free in a world that no longer exists.

I feel empty, as I should and always will.