"The beats make me falling asleep/I keep falling/But never falling six feet deep/I'm out for presidents to represent me/Say what?/I'm out for presidents to represent me/Say what?/I'm out for dead fucking presidents to represent me."
Wading in four feet of dirty water. Every step in the mud pulls my boots off with its vaccum suction design. This is all a dream of course. A pleasant one. I'm helplessly stuck and there's nothing I can do about it. That's alot better than being stuck and being able to do something about it.
Cause I won't.
I'll procrastinate and I much prefer to have no options. Give me a problem and let me sit in it. I love not having a choice. Freedom is overrated and so is the truth. Who could blame me for making nothing out of my life if I've been locked in a cage for 10 years? People would sympathize and expect nothing out of me. My life would be on pause and no one would be asking me to do a thing. Let the busy take care of everything. That's the way they seem to want it.
Nobody wants to be lied to. Why? What's the big deal? Lies are funny. There are people out there that want to destroy your happiness just for the sake of "the truth." Like as if the truth is the most important thing in the world and no matter how much misery it causes, it's still the best course of action. Why? Isn't happiness more important? What good is the truth if it fucks you up? We all have different perceptions on it anyway so when you get right down to it, there's no such thing.
Is the sky blue? I don't know. Someone told me so but that's about as much proof as I have. Some people are color blind and can't see blue at all so what's their truth? I grew up thinking my father was my father. He turned out not to be. So what? Someone else, some truth addict, might have lost complete control of themselves over that little cookie of info but why? Would their life had been any different? Would they have been safer?
Every now and then someone runs through a shopping mall or a school with a machine gun to let us know that the truth that most people believe in can be snuffed out at anytime. It's still chaos out there and thank god for the "crazies" to remind us. We should give them Nobel Peace Prizes.
Ever feel like you're in a box? Really. I feel like a rat that moves to the sound of a bell everyday, going from place to place in the same exact order as the day before. The 3 months in the hospital this year were infinitely more entertaing than the day to day existence I was going through before. At least I was surrounded by people who had no grasp on other people's realities and didn't give a fuck. Crazy people have their own subculture that's way more punk than punk. Hospitals, meds, disease, insane use of vocabulary, innovative use of body parts, stds, high tech machinery, psychological wisdom, no fear, the ability to use less teeth than others, lower sexual standards, brilliant deception, voices that make you shake with their heartfelt bellowing. But for some reason they all have horrible taste in movies. My entire time in the hospital, the only movies that people could get to me(contraband)were like, Vin Deisel movies and bad Jet Li movies. Like that was the zenith of film for them.
What hospitals need to do is pump their patients full of old Polanski movies and play the Melvins and the Swans at full volume all day until those uncultured peices of shit get their act together. Fucking entertain me. By the end of my stay I felt like all interest in anything had been erased. I haven't read a full book in the 4 months I've been out. I can't sit still long enough to read one.
Whatever. Like that matters in the slightest. I'm sure anybody gives a shit if Shawnie Brando has been catching up on his reading lately.
Can you still get a lobotomy?
How is Moxie still being made? Who the fuck buys it?
What ever happened to the blonde girl from the B52s?
Somebody help me out with these questions and more.
I wish I could show you guys this outfit I'm wearing in my head. It's pretty cool.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
My God Gave Me A Rod
Let's talk.
My mind has been twisted all day. I've been burdened all day by feelings of guilt. Two nights ago I got drunk and decided it would be a good idea to sniff a Perc 30. This is why I don't drink that much. All of my judgement and willpower falls by the wayside and the idea of putting any type of substance in my body, no matter how harmful, seems like a good idea. I awoke the next day with an overwhelming feeling of guilt for taking the pill and I've been dealing with the emotions as well as the physical reprocusions of my actions. I've been slightly dopesick and I feel as if I've opened up the gates that I had closed. I want drugs. I want the warm fuzz that comes with opiated divinity,that is as fleeting as the rush of a whippit. I feel terrified. Scared that I have crawled back into that old NEED. Wanting that rush that only drugs can provide.
Or so I thought.
My girlfriend Liz came over tonight and layed in bed with me. We hardly see each other anymore, seeing as how both of us don't have cars and no place to really be alone, as we both live with our respected authority figures. Me, my grandmother. Her, her parents. It had been a long time since we've just layed in bed together and talked and loved each other. It made me realize how much I enjoy her company. The pleasure of doing nothing with someone so special. I love the feeling of her in my arms. The feeling of my hands running through her hair and her telling me how much she loves it.
Before she showed up, I wanted to end it all. When she left I felt like the luckiest guy in the world. She tells me the truth. She shows me compassion and trust. I get lost in her mange and fall into all the narcissistic trappings of two people in love.
"We're the best. We're so lucky to have found each other. Most people spend there lives looking for what we have and we GOT it. I feel blessed to have found you. How the fuck did I find you?"
You know that these things have been said by millions of couples in love but it doesn't matter. You mean them and it goes beyond the pettiness of cliche. I feel blessed everytime I'm with her and I know that I have something more special than money or career. She has the heart of a baby and I'm torn to pieces everytime I realize that she's giving it to me. Think about it. Someone you love and respect giving themselves over to you. Commiting to YOU and all the bullshit that you bring.
Sometimes I turn hypocrite. Sometimes I turn stubborn. Sometimes I fly into a meaningless rage that leaves blood on the floor but she stays right there and even loves me for it. That's special. Sometimes I look at her face and see these soft features that are wracked with guilt, misery, and confusion and I want to fix it, but I know that she doesn't want me to fix it. She just wants me to be there through it all and if that's all it takes to please her, then I have the easiest job in the world. There's nothing I want more than to be there through all the badtimes. But when I say bad times I don't mean that we have them. She has them. I have them. But WE don't have them. We've always been OK. For over three years we've been perfect. I can count on my hands the number of times we've fought and it's always been about the stupidest of shit. Rent payments, drugs, or just general stupidity.
The past couple months has been us talking on the phone mostly cause it's so hard to spend time alone with each other since we lost our apartment, but on a night like tonight where we just lay in bed, holding each other, I realize how much I miss her. She feels so good against my chest that I want to burst into flames and die right there so we can enter the next world full of burning energy that will guarantee that we find each other out there somehow. How could we die and not find each other? That would be injustice. I hope there's something else out there, cause there's not enough time in this place. We need eternity and I really hope it's out there. She's too perfect for me.
I'm glad my friends don't really know her like I do. I'm glad that no one else really does. She's developed a rep as a drug user. For lack of a better word, a mess in every square's eyes that I know. She's the most compassionate person I've ever met and even though she doesn't always do the right thing, she wants to. And she tries to. She knows right from wrong and that's more than I can say for a lot of people. Some people don't even consider their place in the world and it shows. When her friends turn on her, she feels it. She loves her friends with everything in her. I know that. She talks about them all the time. She carries a torch for her best friend Ann Marie, who died over four years ago. Not a day goes by where she doesn't talk about her. Not a single day. I think that's amazing. I've never met a person who loves so much with such a black cloud hanging over her. That takes strength to keep going. I hope I'm part of that strength.
I can't help but gush. It's just been one of those nights where I feel like I've made all the right choices in my life. I didn't have a girlfriend for five years before I met Liz. For the longest time I thought that it was something wrong with me and that all of my experiences with women had turned me off to the whole thing so why even bother finding someone to commit to like that. Some girls were there but I just never wanted it. When I met her, I knew that she was someone I could take a chance on. I knew that I had made the right decision and I was right to wait for the person I was starting to doubt was out there. She was it and I knew it right away. She still turns me on. I still stick my fingers in her belt and pull her towards me when I want her. We're still each other's best company. She still has the best laugh of all time. The best smile. Gorgeous.
Tonight I wanted her so bad that I was gonna bite her face off. It's hard to get(ya know?)when your grandmother is in the next room. I can't wait till we get back on our feet and get on our own again. I miss her too much.
Nights like tonight let me know that nothing is so bad as long as she's around. I really believe that. Once again, I feel blessed. She's changed my life in so many ways that if she were to leave me right now, I would still feel forever in debt to her. She let's me know that I can do anything I want and I want her to know that she can do the same. She's brilliant and I want her to use it. She'd destroy you in anything you go against her in.
"My girl's wicked smaht."
Bottom line is is that a small regression into opiate use had me on the ropes for the past two days and I was really hating myself for it. I don't wanna go back there and I'm hoping it was just a one time thing and I can move on. I don't expect the guilt to go away but I know that I can move on from it. That's because of Liz. I met her at a point where I didn't think I was capable of feeling love for anyone again. She transformed my mindset in the blink of an eye. She gives me hope and let's me know that I can do whatever I want to do. And she doesn't even have to say a word.
P.S.
She's telepathic.
My mind has been twisted all day. I've been burdened all day by feelings of guilt. Two nights ago I got drunk and decided it would be a good idea to sniff a Perc 30. This is why I don't drink that much. All of my judgement and willpower falls by the wayside and the idea of putting any type of substance in my body, no matter how harmful, seems like a good idea. I awoke the next day with an overwhelming feeling of guilt for taking the pill and I've been dealing with the emotions as well as the physical reprocusions of my actions. I've been slightly dopesick and I feel as if I've opened up the gates that I had closed. I want drugs. I want the warm fuzz that comes with opiated divinity,that is as fleeting as the rush of a whippit. I feel terrified. Scared that I have crawled back into that old NEED. Wanting that rush that only drugs can provide.
Or so I thought.
My girlfriend Liz came over tonight and layed in bed with me. We hardly see each other anymore, seeing as how both of us don't have cars and no place to really be alone, as we both live with our respected authority figures. Me, my grandmother. Her, her parents. It had been a long time since we've just layed in bed together and talked and loved each other. It made me realize how much I enjoy her company. The pleasure of doing nothing with someone so special. I love the feeling of her in my arms. The feeling of my hands running through her hair and her telling me how much she loves it.
Before she showed up, I wanted to end it all. When she left I felt like the luckiest guy in the world. She tells me the truth. She shows me compassion and trust. I get lost in her mange and fall into all the narcissistic trappings of two people in love.
"We're the best. We're so lucky to have found each other. Most people spend there lives looking for what we have and we GOT it. I feel blessed to have found you. How the fuck did I find you?"
You know that these things have been said by millions of couples in love but it doesn't matter. You mean them and it goes beyond the pettiness of cliche. I feel blessed everytime I'm with her and I know that I have something more special than money or career. She has the heart of a baby and I'm torn to pieces everytime I realize that she's giving it to me. Think about it. Someone you love and respect giving themselves over to you. Commiting to YOU and all the bullshit that you bring.
Sometimes I turn hypocrite. Sometimes I turn stubborn. Sometimes I fly into a meaningless rage that leaves blood on the floor but she stays right there and even loves me for it. That's special. Sometimes I look at her face and see these soft features that are wracked with guilt, misery, and confusion and I want to fix it, but I know that she doesn't want me to fix it. She just wants me to be there through it all and if that's all it takes to please her, then I have the easiest job in the world. There's nothing I want more than to be there through all the badtimes. But when I say bad times I don't mean that we have them. She has them. I have them. But WE don't have them. We've always been OK. For over three years we've been perfect. I can count on my hands the number of times we've fought and it's always been about the stupidest of shit. Rent payments, drugs, or just general stupidity.
The past couple months has been us talking on the phone mostly cause it's so hard to spend time alone with each other since we lost our apartment, but on a night like tonight where we just lay in bed, holding each other, I realize how much I miss her. She feels so good against my chest that I want to burst into flames and die right there so we can enter the next world full of burning energy that will guarantee that we find each other out there somehow. How could we die and not find each other? That would be injustice. I hope there's something else out there, cause there's not enough time in this place. We need eternity and I really hope it's out there. She's too perfect for me.
I'm glad my friends don't really know her like I do. I'm glad that no one else really does. She's developed a rep as a drug user. For lack of a better word, a mess in every square's eyes that I know. She's the most compassionate person I've ever met and even though she doesn't always do the right thing, she wants to. And she tries to. She knows right from wrong and that's more than I can say for a lot of people. Some people don't even consider their place in the world and it shows. When her friends turn on her, she feels it. She loves her friends with everything in her. I know that. She talks about them all the time. She carries a torch for her best friend Ann Marie, who died over four years ago. Not a day goes by where she doesn't talk about her. Not a single day. I think that's amazing. I've never met a person who loves so much with such a black cloud hanging over her. That takes strength to keep going. I hope I'm part of that strength.
I can't help but gush. It's just been one of those nights where I feel like I've made all the right choices in my life. I didn't have a girlfriend for five years before I met Liz. For the longest time I thought that it was something wrong with me and that all of my experiences with women had turned me off to the whole thing so why even bother finding someone to commit to like that. Some girls were there but I just never wanted it. When I met her, I knew that she was someone I could take a chance on. I knew that I had made the right decision and I was right to wait for the person I was starting to doubt was out there. She was it and I knew it right away. She still turns me on. I still stick my fingers in her belt and pull her towards me when I want her. We're still each other's best company. She still has the best laugh of all time. The best smile. Gorgeous.
Tonight I wanted her so bad that I was gonna bite her face off. It's hard to get(ya know?)when your grandmother is in the next room. I can't wait till we get back on our feet and get on our own again. I miss her too much.
Nights like tonight let me know that nothing is so bad as long as she's around. I really believe that. Once again, I feel blessed. She's changed my life in so many ways that if she were to leave me right now, I would still feel forever in debt to her. She let's me know that I can do anything I want and I want her to know that she can do the same. She's brilliant and I want her to use it. She'd destroy you in anything you go against her in.
"My girl's wicked smaht."
Bottom line is is that a small regression into opiate use had me on the ropes for the past two days and I was really hating myself for it. I don't wanna go back there and I'm hoping it was just a one time thing and I can move on. I don't expect the guilt to go away but I know that I can move on from it. That's because of Liz. I met her at a point where I didn't think I was capable of feeling love for anyone again. She transformed my mindset in the blink of an eye. She gives me hope and let's me know that I can do whatever I want to do. And she doesn't even have to say a word.
P.S.
She's telepathic.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Bear Storm(The Psych Ward Stories Pt 1)
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