Tuesday, February 24, 2009

"Uplifting Refreshment"

I was sitting there, alone. The grass was slightly cooling against my skin. The booms of track 1 on my walkmen made for a high heart rate and anticipation as I rolled up my sleeve and pulled my tool of expression from my bag. Just like the night before, but not as satisfying, the sickness seeped away a little, but the relief was not as great. Just settling into my light trance, I saw them coming, the group. I looked at my walkmen and track 3 had started. Wow, has it been that long already?
I walked up to the group shaking, trying to hide my shame. I grabbed Her and pulled her aside. We spoke words of trust and I told her what was going on, so she let me go, to the other side of the park.
I took a seat, making sure not to cut my self on the broken glass that littered the spot which I chose to sit. Yet again I pulled up my sleeve and took out my pretty little tool of expression. The bite was just so exquisite, so beautiful, so relieving, so sickening, so sexual all in one. I sat there and watched the river run down my tool for what seemed to be a few moments. The tranquil booming of my headphones came back to me at the same moment I saw a movement in the corner of my eye. So much anger, shame and anxiety shot threw me as I jumped about a foot in the air, who dared to break such a deep trance?!
Thank fuck, it was only her. It was such a beautiful moment. She just sat and we conversed over my river. It marked the end to my little trance. I got up and was taken aback by the beauty and long awaited dimentions I now noticed. So shaky on my feet. This distraction from anxiety and frustration was great.
So beautiful, ecstatic and destroyed all in one.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Do not drink the sickness within.

The event caused black sludge to drizzle down my swollen wind pipe, seep slowly into the cancer of my lungs and start to choke my words of unimportance. Self disgust, self disgust, self disgust; at my actions. The feeling, it tends to fluctuate. I will feel 'urghhh' then I will be feeling fine. I am guessing the changes are caused by the situation I am in.
Just what you did?
What is wrong with me? I just want to scream. I feel so stuck, so God damned confused. Automatic thoughts of life and death just further the confusion. Can't stop thinking thoughts that would send a saint crazy. The pathways in my brain intertwine to create a heavy head of nonsense.
I carved your name into my chest today..
Don't even bother to drink the sickness. It'll just keep bleeding out. Today I realized I can't keep sweeping everything under the carpet with alcohol, because and I am sure everyone could agree, it just leads to more things needing to be swept under.
The need for nicotine increases as all comfort betrays. Strictly because every inhalation of the smoke reminds me of the name carved within my chest, never does the cigarette fail to poison my mind not to mention my grateful lungs.

Thursday, February 19, 2009


Indifference. The one that plays hard and thinks ahead, looses. Plans disrupt and fall apart. They fall apart much like the mechanisms of my thoughts. The receptors clog with substance.

What are these questions? They say they're normal. Don't question me, question why it is that you question me with your rhetorical question. Normal. Fuck you, I'm special.

Monday, February 9, 2009

Utter Conflict.

Mutiny at best. I couldn't kill her. What with her pretty face, golden hair and sparkling eyes. Her skin appeared to be so soft, so soft that if I was to touch it, it would bend. In her eyes there was a deep hardness, a hardness that I lacked. A hardness that made me feel insignificant and so God damn pathetic within a second of her gazing into my eyes.
Some melodramatic part of me wanted to pull her from that car to cry on her shoulder and apoligze for the heartless thing I had done to her, repent for my previous moment of bliss. But no. She didn't know me, we had never met. She has yet or wont know the deviate act I had commited against her. The angry, jelouse part of me just wanted to pull him from the car and start screaming to him right in front of her. But no. She didn't know me.
So in my drunken moment of confusion I did the only acceptable and most self conflicting thing I could have done. I smiled widely at her and made the peace sign with my free hand. I exclaimed " Seeya!" And I was off down the road back to my friends to consume unknown amounts of alcohol.
So beautiful, looking at her through the tinted car window. I must kill her, I must. I can't. I need I want.
Fuck love. Fuck her. Fuck him.

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

The Bliss IsToo Real.

I awoke that morning feeling strange, feeling as though I should never shower again. You left me clean. Hazy memories came to mind as I reminisced in the past 48 sleep deprived hours.

A great sadness overcame me and I was unable to speak. The entire effect of the anguished speechlessness took hold as the memory of your words from some two nights previous fluttered across my mind, like a butterfly trying to escape death. The words, they bounced around my skull.
" This will never happen again."

I stared at the stars and cried. They looked so pretty with tears in my eyes. While running through the empty night streets feeling hollow, a simple thought crossed my mind; Would it be so pointless to live, if my point was to make them all die?

I noticed a middle-aged woman bustling along the sidewalk with her dog. I approached her, sporting a smile and a hunting knife. Before she could scream, think or cry I thrust the blade into her right lung. I twisted and withdrew. The dog started barking. In such a waste of animal life, I gently slit it's throat.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Sleep and repeat.

Each day begins with a struggle,
A struggle to escape the lucid coma,
The closest thing to bliss, however much tainted in nightmare.

Each day I drag myself from the semi-conscious state,
Into the wretched world, sugar coated in sex and hate.
The pain within my chest implodes on my mind,
While my lungs tease me with a craving of such power,
You could never find.

Most days I lay there for what appears to be a second,
It turns out to be an eternity and I am late again.

"But late for what?" I exclaim as I stumble from my bed,
Thoughts of death strangle what's left of my soul and swim around in my head.
I force my eyes to open,
To view a life void of meaning and internally broken.

Within a moment I discover that my throat is dry,
It hurts too much to smoke,
It hurts too much to think,
And with a great discomfort I proceed to get myself a drink.

This water feels far from pleasant, rolling down my throat,
A river builds behind my eyes that I struggle to choke,
With immense hate and shame the tears spill down my face.
"Oh why? Why can't the world just give me a fucking place?"