myspace friend request girl's message:
- girl: your eyes are retarded pretty!!
- me: did you seriously not know any more flattering adjectives or are you really that stupid?
[undertow]
pulled into the breaking tide,
fighting for dear life.
currents pull us under
as we struggle for air.
little by little, we’re drowning.
we have to go where we fear,
into the depths of the blue.
will we make it out alive?
we have to make it out alive.
hold your breath, dear,
cuz we’re goin under.
swim for your life, dear,
cuz we’re goin under.
let’s ride this one out
while there’s still time,
while we’re still here,
while we’re still breathing.
floating face-down on the surface;
the waves have left us for dead,
the weight from the deep, crushing us.
we’re sinking now.
we’re going down.
— 5:01AM —
Time elapses into slow, bitter chapters of sleepless nights. nothing helps — nothing soothes the raging monsterinside of me — this debilitating, maddening, growing psychosis.
Awake. almost too awake, too aware, too conscious. i wantdreams.
-yawn-
nothing helps. heavy eyed and breathing, i wait in vain for REM that will never come — not tonight. warm, surging feelings bubble in my brain and play patty-cake with distressed, neurochemicalimbalances. blinking slowly, eyelids weighing in at metric tons.
- sleep doesn’t live here anymore.-
now i’m just repeating myself, forgetting, forgetting, forgetting already what i’ve only just penned on the page.
There’s a hair in my mouth, but that seems to be a repeating oral hallucination of mine, reoccuring when in the deep fits of mania.
Tongue against teeth, rubbing, scrapping across, back and forth in rapid motion. my tongue will blister and bleed; i won’t be able to eat. all part of bipolar’s master plan to finally kill the host. it IS a parasite! in the brain!! eating it alive and feeding off bad dreams.
no coffee! (please let me explain myself) NO COFFEE to make me squirm, to make my body vibrate and to make me throw angry punch-fists at whomsoever stands between me and a solid way out.
-this is just the way things are-
should i try? should i try to fight super-consciousness and feign my body into afalse sleep, eyes open, body shaking, thoughts racing to somewhere dangerous?
-i feel a psychosis coming on-
paranoia. suspicion. psychosis. paranoia. suspicion. psychosis. it’s always the same — the fall off, then the wanting.
-i’m done for-
LUNATIC: i am.
fuck everyone who’s never felt this way! fuck everyone who never will! fuck everyone who doesn’t understand, but kudos to those who try to comprehend.
the sun never sleeps. it just orbits around, never ceasing, never slowing, never sleeping.
-i’ve just stayed awake through an entire day on the other side of the world-
above all, empathy (which is far greater than sympathy).
falling into existential moments. i am not profound. i am not special or unique. everything has been said and done already; so where does my small, insignificant existance play a part in the grand scheme of things? i will never do, say, write, draw, evoke, etc, anything worthwhile to this world. i am nothing but the filter i vice between my fingers — a dying, cancerous ember tha has no other purpose than to satiate breifly only to be flicked away as unwanted garbage in the end.
- fuck existentialism… this is straight nihilism -
oh, chuck palahniuk, my callous, jaded, nihilistic muse; where are you when i need you? in a book, scribed on pages in waterproof ink by some colossal, super-productive, mega printer; a copy of a copy of a copy. we are ALL just a copy of a copy of a copy, though we liken ourselves to being a complete original. fuck the mainstream, and fuck the underground. it’s all the same. we are NOT individuals.
sunrise now and only one more cigarette left before the shameful rattle of loose tobacco bits in an empty pack.
- fuckitall -
