i don't know which way to turn my head.
the sky is a gradient, and i have such a sadness vibrating in my legs. i can run across the room into the vast ocean of a air, and leap to my splattering death like it is all your business. the images of my self doing this repeats often. fish are floating in my stomach.
i can breath easier at night. my body is alone and my soul is visiting with the many dead ones that sift though the open windows. they are more alive than mine. he asked me if i was a violent person. i said i had potential, and i am more agressive now. i smell garlic everywhere, it reminds me of wood and death. the moon is not entirely full, there is still lots of time. i feel so hungry. my stomach chews on itself as it bites back. the fish are now devoured. empty once again
i am walking, or am i swimming? the night is drowing in humidity, the breeze is dense and slick. two men smoke, a blue cloud embodies them. i walk past. street lights are glowing softly in the haze. i can see the end of the street; a blurry panorama. i hear their muffled laughing. are they laughing about me? i dont know, but they are in my past now. the smell of cigarettes lingers on my palet as i step closer to home.
people are always dying without comfort. living is a waste of time, all i want is to be dead. i don't feel like moving or breathing. my skin is always crawling and anxiety up and down. my throat is always tense, always choking on painful emotions. nothing makes sense, money school, love, or family. feeling sick. feels like being 7 again. being home being miserable and warn and ignorant. in bed, looking at the soft walls illuminated by yellow light from a lamp turned on by dad. sometimes thinking twice about which side to put the circle on Bs and Ds. i still doing that. still looking at walls, turning on my own light. no one is here, no one is alive. i keep waiting for something beautiful, but nothing is. i look at the sky and i feel small and useless. i lost my soul and i never had faith. who is there to help. i cant anymore. everyone is growing up, we know too much. we all ran away and nothing has changed. were more isolated and focused on self destructive images. throwing up in my my sleep. hopefully i don't wake up tomorrow. maybe wake up as something else. i feel so fucked up
GIVE YOU MONEY TO GOD! vodka and apple slices. indication of satisfaction.
yes i finally found this pen. it is the only good pen i have ever had. i wish my writing was better.
wine for breakfast. some makeup will do you good. clean bedsheets will help you forget the bad dreams. clean the show off the car, and go
to the market
Atlantic halibut is a highly sought after food fish. It is the largest flat fish in the world. Flat fish exibit a unique and distinctive
i have things to say if i knew what language to say them in
DRAGONS CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF ME.
DRAGONS CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF ME.
am worthless and a waste of space. i contribute nothing to this world and i probably never will because "i am lazy and posess no ambition." i do not deserve to be happy or to be loved. i should only make money forever and never spend it and when i finally die i will have no one to give it too. no one wants to see me happy. everyone wants me to bend over backwards to make them happy. i should be alone forever, maybe best dead so i dont dissapoint anyone anymore and especially myself. i am a horrible human being. i make people miserable. no on ecares if i am here or not; they are probably happier without me. i should not have a voice, i have nothing important to say. i wish i was working now, at least if i am doing that i might have some sense of worth. i wish i could love myself and make myself see that none of this is my fault, but i would only be lieing. i wish i was asleep all the time. maybe i will starve myself to death. i dont want to waste fod on such a pointless animal. i am not happy here or anywhere. i dont see a future. i dont see next week
sweetheart, you have no idea how to be a man. you've got to stare into straight into the sun, you need to cut the grass and takeout the garbage. you have to enjoy sitting in the basement on a beautiful day. you can't be afraid of the man that is the coat rack. you have to fight in bars until the glass in your eyes helps you see. you are expected to wake up schedualy regardless of how late you were up the night before. you need to be able to stomach the beer and cake you consume to satisfy your apitite untill it's numb. while you watch all your favourite shows, you remember how you were once creative (and created children) and once belived you had a future. when you were a teenager you had to choose between having dreams or growing up. you had to step out of the shade and get a tan. the flies now love you more than the birds. a man realizes that the ocean is grey through bloodshot eyes and a spinning bathroom. and, i'm sorry, you smile too much to understand
we got it, we got it.
(the steak has a bone it will give it more flavour)
my nails are thin and long;
and they tear through paper
untill it is unusable.
then, i throw it in the garbage and feel nothing.
i am just eating some pasta salad andi only feel like pasta salad. pasta salad is the one thing on my mind at the moment. i bought it less than 4 minutes ago from the cafeteria. $2.20. it came with a container of salad dressing and i put the entire thing on the noodles and browning onions and carrots. there is some white cheese in there two. i hope it is white cheese. i am only the pasta salad right now, and after it's gone, i'm not sure what will become of me.
i wish i had a mesh t shirt. if i had a mesh t shirt i would be more comfortable when i go out downtown. i would fit in with the people dancing inside. i would dance with them and i would be in the proper attire and i would not look over dressed. i would wear it with a nice pink skirt and running shoes. i wouldn't wear heels because i am there to dance. i will have too much fun dancing and going place to place. i'll have a growing group of people who want to party with me. when it's 3 in the morning, we will go into tim horton's very drunk and have coffee and a box of assorted timbits. we will find a party and we will invite ourselves. we will get high off someone else's drugs then leave shortly after. i will call a cab and i'll be hazy and cold. i'll throw up on myself when i get home. i will have ruined my clothes and my shoes; i will be pissed of for a while as i shower. i'll wake up sunday afternoon forgetting i ever had a mesh t shirt.