At least it's not...

Sunrise

Monday

Closing time

Too late 

Last call

On empty

The last shot

20 miles from home

Desperate 

The worst I've done

Selling my soul

During work

Filthy sex

Cocaine

Expensive

Illegal

Morally wrong 

Embarrassing

Wretched desperation

Fueled by self hatred

Average 

Boring

The worst thing I have ever done in my entire existence on this earth

Ignorant 

Fueled by sex

Just plain stupid

My very last dollar

Pathetic

All I am

Life

Heroin

Known by others

My peak

Who I really am...

Unicorn

There's no such thing as clean sex, there's always baggage, worries, risk, love or no love? No, it's sex. It can't be that simple but it is. It's getting off, feeling good, we all need it. Why so complicated? I know the differences, I know how to express with or without love. Passion is passion, heat is heat and it all feels good. There's no reason to hold back or give it all. Just feel good. Everyone should just feel good first and let the world happen around that.

me

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...

Temp

A cold night amplifies loneliness.

post title

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.

"You're the one with the crazy piece of fruit"

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.

A little chill in the air.

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)

Non-functioning bic

1 2" screw

So everything's the same.. Fuck... 

Now

I really want to start my life. I have so many visions and ideas. I need a partner though, I'd hate to admit. I think I may have one but it's not in stone. I'm lost with only an "idea" of what I want and must do. Things may implode once again and collapse but could equally blossom and explode in a vibrant glow of hope and destined happiness. It's one or the other...

I'm lost.

I do not know my next move. I'm a mess but with a vague plan. I have dreams with equal nightmares along side. My heart is barely a factor yet should be the drive. 

I know nothing. 

I've ruined everything.

Life could be wondrous.

My name is rubbish.

Help and I will please you.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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...

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.

Oh, oh yes.

Not to sound as a dick and say what you will to deny it, but I know I am an amazing lover.

Holy fuck, Jon Stewert is funny

Still going nowhere, interviews and increments of incomes, nothing to advance. I continue on with external motivations and distractions. I only get to fuck on weekends, but it's enough of a release to keep me going. Out of drugs.