| *looks around...sees no one.* The coast is clear. This place is more desolate than when I first started writing all those years ago. Finally...a place I can get this weight of shit off my chest. I'm not proud of any of it, and it all comes unbidden, as if for once, something is coming OUT of my Well, rather than m going IN it.
I'm the outcast, and I don't fucking like it.
I feel like the last sane person a party.
I feel like my heart is going to realize one day that it's a Horse's heart in a rat's body, and will thump out of my fucking rib cage.
Again.
I hate that going hours without whispers turns my stomach.
I hate that I play double jeopardy with my fucking heart.
I hate that, after a life of independence and non-chalance, I'm tethered in the yard like an unlucky stray.
I hate that it seems I'm as easily ignored as a bum on a street corner.
I hate that I'm being replaced by Books.
I hate that my mind is playing Stratego, while everyone else is playing Life.
I hate that I'm being driven to the insane asylum by my heart and brain...kind of like being dropped off by your parents on the first day of senior year.
I've been thinking about...throwing my body to the bottom of my Well a lot lately. It would make things...so simple. Then again, maybe it's time I finally talk to someone about it all. Maybe my life just needs to slow down, rather than stop. Maybe it's time to swallow my pride and take the plunge...it'll just remove that one big stressor from my life, like pulling a huge weed to let the plants grow.
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| COCKSUCKINGMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSTORMCLUSTERFUCK.
COCKSUCKINGMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSTORMCLUSTERFUCK.
COCKSUCKINGMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSTORMCLUSTERFUCK.
COCKSUCKINGMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSTORMCLUSTERFUCK.
COCKSUCKINGMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSTORMCLUSTERFUCK.
COCKSUCKINGMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSTORMCLUSTERFUCK.
COCKSUCKINGMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSTORMCLUSTERFUCK.
COCKSUCKINGMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSTORMCLUSTERFUCK.
The song "L.A. County" comes to mind.
As does a "bullet to the brainpan...squish."
COCKSUCKINGMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSTORMCLUSTERFUCK.
COCKSUCKINGMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSTORMCLUSTERFUCK.
COCKSUCKINGMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSTORMCLUSTERFUCK.
COCKSUCKINGMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSTORMCLUSTERFUCK.
COCKSUCKINGMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSTORMCLUSTERFUCK.
COCKSUCKINGMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSTORMCLUSTERFUCK.
COCKSUCKINGMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSTORMCLUSTERFUCK.
COCKSUCKINGMOTHERFUCKINGSHITSTORMCLUSTERFUCK.
The bird remembers there's food in his cage. He's tired of digging for worms.
But he remembers how the cage's bars look from the inside.
He remembers...but he....
Fuck that bird. I hope he gets sucked down an intake.
I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO.
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| ...........................................................................................................................................................................................................Numb............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................. |
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| Here I am, deployed to save another country from natural disaster.
If only they knew how much I'm in no state to save anyone...including myself.
I had the opportunity to tell someone I suffer from this god damned disease...
I didn't. |
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| I need to write.
I have nothing to write about, but I need to write about everything.
Does that make sense? No?
Good. Just checking. |
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