Want Not

Someone else is living my life.  Not sure when or where this phenomena took place but here we are.  Here she is folks!  The girl who once thought she'd be and do something great is just like the rest of you useless tits.  A worker bee and nothing more.  All bets and aspirations are off!   Someone else invaded my peaceful existence and made everything shitty.  Had to be someone else cuz why would anyone in their right fucking mind ever participate in this banality by choice?  Everything is shitty.  All I need now is cancer....and boy is it ever on it's way.  My whole family is fast becoming worm food due to this bit of business and I'm sure my fate will sooner than later be sealed.  Well, actually probably later cuz my cancer will be slow and arduous.  It will go into several remissions leaving me perpetually bald and weak and inhuman.  Then the mounds of fucking tumors will fill my lungs, leaving me in my last moments grasping for breath and asking for my mommy;  Like when young soldiers get gut-shot and are readily bleeding to death on the cold and indifferent ground.

Who is this living my life right now?  And why?  Wake up.  Do some stuff.  Don't do some other stuff.  Do more stuff.  Time for bed.  I feel so unfulfilled in lack of action and unfulfilled in any action taken.  So then I question which choices am i making to allow such feelings of heaviness.  I am so heavy.  I feel weight pressing me more and more into the ground.  no escape.  I'm getting older and dumber day by day and the unfairness of this 'gift' is beginning to choke me out.  I'm afraid to live but I can't keep going with the way things are.  I'm afraid to try anything because I may not like it.  There goes all that wasted time and energy and money.  Then, lesson learned mind you, I'd be back where I started.  I always come back to where I started because I think small and dream smaller and that's no one's fault but my own but fuck it and fuck you.

Fuck you.
A hummingbird drinks and Rhandi crys.  I should also be suckling but instead i wallow in shallow waves of discontent and self hatred.  And question.  and rage.  And live in my head til I feel like it's about to burst.  Then i share this nonsense with another ego and everything else that I had built falls and crumbles to nothing.  Yeah, I've been sad since I've arrived here.  I have yet to make a true connection.  Sure I'm a little guarded but who in adulthood isn't?  We go through a lot of bullshit just to be here....sifting through other people is no different.  I have no patience for these jobs I participate in anymore.  I use to be able to assuage my soul's cry by repetition and the goals of other people.  Maybe I have no goals and that's what makes me such a malcontent.  Maybe my dreams are bigger than my reality, therefore I can't imagine them possibly coming to fruition.  Perhaps 'achieving' something isn't all there is to living.  Helps to be screamed to about it though.

I'm trying to live day by day and I continue to grow smaller and smaller until I fear I'll disappear.  I was once visible and vibrant and ready.  I use to be fearless.  Nearing on reckless.  Make a decision, boom.  Action, boom.  Now my 'booms' come from angry slamming doors and the pounding of my empty heart.  I continue to refuse to accept that this is my life and maybe that's why nothing is changing.  I thought beautiful events would occur and lead me to more of the same.  Can that even happen when you don't know which way to go?  Where to turn?  Who to seek out?  I fight against all of the inconsequential garbage I've built, like who I am and what the fucking point is, and now I have no time to do anything real.  Anything of value has long ago left.  For too long have I hated and raged and avoided who I am and what I've created.  Now I look back at it:  This empty thirty years of and in no particular order, lies, inaction, adoption, occasional decent person, scumbagscumbagscumbag, brief travel highlight, death, life, acting highlight, brief periods of action followed by me just returning to awful me.  I have forgotten how to cultivate anything good.  How do people do this?  How do people live their lives with meaning and purpose and love?  I would rather watch people live and love then acquire it for myself.  I have it and I turn it to shit.  Or it turns to shit cuz that's what happens.  How can I be happy for someone else, excited for someone else when I feel this way?

I will never meet the standards i have set and revive daily.  I want to come up for a wee bit of air but I don't know how and the what?  Then fucking what?  More cyclical treadmill of stupid wants and petty desires.  I always thought i was here to do something special.  To be someone special.  I bet we all think that at one point.  Well, those thoughts still bounce around in my big empty noggin but I've completely given up on meeting them.  I had hope for things once.  Now?  I simply wash rinse and repeat...on to the next day to complete the same menial tasks that were accomplished the day before.  Nothing changes.  People stay the same and I'll continue to watch from my perch...not alone mind you, cuz my throbbing, raging cancerous tumors will fill in all the holes.

Poopypants McBoogerson

Tis I!  I am thee!  I thusly spread my poopypants mcboogers all through the lands.  I am a thief of happy thoughts.  I am the darkness which enters in ever so slowly only to shield itself from discovery and then WHAMMMMM-Oooo!  I am an algorithm?  Am i timeless piece of history only because others say so?  Apparently....tiny yet even still....

I am reluctant towards most things.  I think I hate everything.  When did that happen?  When did I allow that, THAT to take over?  Take precedence.  I am not listening to the right shit, pardon et moi................I got homework from fucking work today.  What the fucking christ hell is that miserable bullshit?  Seriously, what?  Do people not understand that this job is not for me?  Can they not see that I DO NOT belong there?  I should be hissed at and spat upon post haste, shoved from out doorways immediately and cursed!  Fucking cursed.  What is wrong with our society that we have created a fucking occupation that requires us to not only stomach one another but the ingrates that frequent such establishments?  What have we done to the lower class?  They are slaves in green aprons and plastic smiles and hate in their hearts.  We don't need this brown putrid 'luxury'.  We don't this refined sugar and ingredients we cannot pronounce let alone synthesize in our own kitchens.  I need something more than this.  I need something that isn't lacking in soul and creativity.  We are automatons.  We are creepy units of mindless busywork so that we may distract the herd from their tragic little lives.  Why must I pretend everyday of my life?  Why?

I am in a new land.  Newold.  It's lonely here cuz I've forgotten how to meet decent people.  You have to sift through so many fucking duds, it's exhausting.  Crushing, even.

I forget why i do things.  Always in my head I am.  To the point of great confusion and occasional animosity.

I think I sprained my ankle on purpose so I wouldn't have to go to work at 5am.  I fell so weird and fucked myself up so bad....a little too bad?  Am I capable of that?  Of course it was fully subconscious if so...what possibilities.  Back to algorithms....I am a product of my past.  Google told me so.  My past choices have brought me thusly and I choose based on such.  If man can make a fucking program that does this, why would it be inconceivable that we're not controlled by the very mechanism that produced us?

Why do i miss things I once despised?  Why reverence when the moments passed?  Is it a simple, 'don't know what ya got til it's gone' type bullshit?  I'm much smarter than everyone I work with.  Without question.  Like, that's not even an ego boost....totally.  Ugh.

I have friends dammit.  They're far away.  

Confinement

I am a solitary creature.  She says with a smirk.  That's a pretty final statement.  solid.  heavy.  Pretty fucking true.  'No one ever did anything of note alone.'  Really?  The few people that could stand in their own yet not of the time that I truly adore and admire were all solemn in sordid solitary.

Who do I listen to?
My hatred for all wins out so frequently...should i be worried?  and why?  call me abnormal or absurd...

Perhaps I'm not evolved as once thought.  Me mE and me and alone of course.  Not said with sadness.

Then something kicks in and I'm a mess.  I am not a bar person anymore.  Never really was.  Meeting people in those environments is badnews bears.  So.  Extra-curricular.  Volunteer work.  I don't want it to sound douche-like but that warms my heart to think of it.  Meeting others would be a bonus?  Still undecided on that one.  Why am I afraid to meet people?  Am I really so lost in the negativity of what that means.  Well, could potentially mean.

What is an alcoholic?  Truly.  I know when I see it.  I suppose it's a variety of things, really.

(It creeps me out knowing that at any moment someone could come through the door and then sleep in the same bed as me...it kind of bizarrely blows my mind.)

How do i get fully comfortable around someone!  ...and not just to be a total bitch about it?!

Right, right...alcoholism.

I think death is necessary.  That sounds silly.  Of course it is.  I just seem to find death easier to tolerate thinking of it in this manner.  We spend our whole lives trying to figure out how to minimize the nasty and nurture the rest.  It's all nasty.  Things.  things are like death.  Little tombs we build up and around until one day we're sick and old and need to perish.  I miss people that have died.  Don't get me wrong.

I don't want to get to know his friends.  Sure you can be friendly with them but it never really gets any deeper.  How can it?  You haven't put in the time and here you are sticking your face into a hand-picked family, expecting to be let in.  Comfort around one another grows but nothing real is ever really shared.

Even when it is, it isn't.

Love's Labor Lost

I chose Love.  Actually, I like to think it chose me.  Guess we'll never know....that's suppose to be the fun part, right?  RIGHT!!!  I struggle for control every day of my stinking life.  Control over only that which cannot be controlled.  I want.  I long.  I feel need, nay deserve.  That sucks knowing you're a terrible person.  Harsh.  Not complete in it's entirety but!  it's there.  Isn't it exhausting.

I have been uncomfortable for months and I'm about ready to fold.  Isn't that absurd?  There are people whose lives are a mere shadowy wreckage of mine.  I feel guilty for that statement too.  Seriously though, I fucking have some really astounding things in my life and everyday I battle against seeing them.  Acknowledging them.  Succumbing to them.  I drink.  I drink to drink, I drink to drink.  When a person is fucking jobless, it throws off the whole aesthetic of what drinking to drink means.  I want an income so I can focus on being tortured instead of bored and alone and tortured.  Sometimes I look at water and see it's potential to become liquor.  I like her clear and cool, not cold.  I don't mean to sound like a souse, and i know it's seemingly textbook.  I am fully functional.  That's the difference I think.  Not hurting anyone with your hobbies nor distracting passers-by of their own ineptitude's in life for a moment while they witness you pissing in a bush.  Hey!  It happens...I'm sure of it.

I get confused as to who's talking.  Not in a totally crazy way but between the master of ceremonies and the ring leader, I often get disoriented.  They can get along but when they don't...utter chaos ensues.  Will I be happy with my choices someday?  I as well and in addition to feel, out of sorts.  I don't feel like myself.  Is that bad?  Those two have some bizarre conversations sometimes.  I'm tired of questioning if this is real or not so much.  I'm sure I project a lot of bullshit onto the table but not all.  Not all.

Can you have more than one of the Big Three exist simultaneously?  What can I do to extend those times?  I feel like I've made such a concerted effort to grip the good with gusto but nothing seems to be sticking.  Am I getting more fearful?  Is that possible?  I should be mellowing in my growing years.  Well, it sticks but not for long.  Or maybe just a bunch of really shitty shit has been happening and my attitude about it all is the only thing holding me back.  Perhaps I don't see the bigger picture, or that there isn't a picture, or that the picture is a mere figment of light refracting inside a highly intelligent computer.  If we were computers, I'd be better at math.

Having dreams to be better is terrible.  The worst.  In fact, I daresay...the worst of the worst.  The thought of going back to school for things I actually may want to do...a decade of life and any semblance of financial independence and stability would be a figment of a whisper of a dream.  I don't think I could stay here though.  Not where I am and be happy.  I want to be someone others can look up to but never touch.  Physically I mean cuz I hate other people.  An adult paycheck would be nice.  Ugh.  Did my brain just admit to that?  Sick man.  Way.  Selfish fucking goblins we are.

I don't feel like writing.  In fact, I'm gonna crack a beer before I even begin...



Caribou Beer and Arcade fire suit me just fine....'gets me every time.'  If it isn't one thing it's another.  It never ends.  I'm gonna learn some things tomorrow.  Gonna feign interest in a conversation I should be interested in...like my life.

Dear Life,

  I am not so interested in you right now.

P.S You can do better.

R


Is that all ego?  To think better of yourself for certain things and not of in others?  Money is money is MONey... is death.  The pursuit of such nonsense beguiles me.  Who am I competing with?  Myself.....mostly.  I've been sad lately.  How much of feeling something is completely self induced?  I don't feel at ease here...yet?  It's like anywhere else, so why does it feel so foreign?  I may be racist.

My skin itches for something.  Always more.  If there's no growth there's no money!  If you don't eat yer meat.....!  I quit a job after participating for eight hours.  My participation consisted of annoyance, irritation, bemused aggravation.  A sickness set into me during those allotted eight.  I was at lost in a sea of ignorance and sloth.  Gossip and solitude.  Why would anyone do that to themselves?  Make an environment so intolerable that nothing could survive?  I had to get the fuck out of there.  I need no drama.  I create plenty enough without aid.

I've complicated things somehow.  I wanted the time to blend a life I've led for the previous year to something new and exciting.  Now I sleep all night and the live long day.  My desires to pursue desires is all so undesirable.  My taste for things is so fleeting.  Perhaps I've led such a charmed life that when things don't go as planned, my interest wanes.  Or I'm such a control freak that any step away from the previously ordained(by me) throws me....utterlyutterly throws me.  Maybe I'm just tired.  Exhausted of the new, of the change.  Everything's the same regardless, so why I must remain in the hunt is beyond me.  My inquisitive nature?  So curious.

I sound like such a prat.

I want to be distracted.  YET!  All of this shit that distracts only detracts from this so called existence I've birthed and given up on.  Whoa.  Am i so bored of effort?  How awful.  Truly fucking awful.  I should be doing more with my time mayhaps?  We all gotta keep warm.  I should be facilitating something to that effect.  Clean drinking water and all those integral bits we take for granted.  Am I so ungrateful?  Jesus.  It seems it.  I can afford not to work for a bit.  I have a roof and all the accoutrement that any sentient being could ever want.  Love and junk.  Health for me and those I name dearest.  Am i so inundated by 'shoulds' that my wants become a distant whisper?  I want to remember the language of my heart and have the courage to follow it.  Does being female prohibit me from making a decision?  I use to make decisions all willy-nilly and some pretty wicked things happened....glorious and opposedly, not so.  Getting there is taxing and taking too long, and I don't know where 'there' is.  Death, i imagine.  Well I'm not remotely there so what's next?  Why must I have constant stimulation?  Is that generational, or human?  Do I expect too little of myself?  Is that where others get it from.....me?  Gross.

How do i get what I want if I don't know what it is?  I want too much.  Stretched too thin.  So thin.

Sojourn

Do I fret for fear?  Do I complain for solace?  Am i insane?  Why must I refuse happiness.

Does being miserable comfort me?  Do i see the world as some great tragedy i star in?  How bizarre.  How unsightly.  Everyone dies in tragedies, so that's at the very least...fitting.  How I wish for consistent joy.  Too much to ask for?  I take on roles of leadership then despise the process.  Some of this 'process' is quite ridiculous though, isn't it?  i would so like to speak the truth to people who really need to hear it.  Would it do any good?  Would they stare up at me with obstinate ignorant eyes, confused and so fucking angry?  Would anything change?  Do people respond to being checked?  How do I respond?  I hate it.  Especially if it comes from a place of untruths and insecurity.  Why then, do I choose to bring it all in, consume and leave nothing but a dusty sky and taupe abyss?  I think taupe would be the worst color in the world to live with for all time; A time.  Life is meant for color and I have been unresponsive to it.  I look without seeing.  I should just harbor gratitude and leave it at that.

When I stop thinking about it, usually after a few tokes, I am divinely sated.  Then I abuse it and there we are.

I don't want to do good for him.  That sucks.  I want to do good.  I am driven to expel all energy, most of the time.  It's exhausting and I should love it.  i do not.  It insults me to try at this juncture.  I am torn.  Not enough to give up on my expulsions but enough to fuck with my brain...and skin!  Jesus, I feel like I'm in high school again.  Zit faced and busted.  I feel better.  Gonna watch war shit now.

Sips

A mournful tune of solitude was all I thought would be allowed.  By whom was this obscenity dictated?  By you.  You gave me less than the time of the day.  You gave nothing and took it all.  All of my passion and innocent longing and spirit for the only thing that matters in this life.  GET OUT
                                                getoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetoutgetout

You surface in my brain when I refused to let you in.  Has this refusal been my undoing?  What must I do to banish you from every fibre?  Every cell?  Every one of my memories.  Remembering you has not made me better.  I have learned what not to do, not because of you.  You taught me nothing.  You took and continue to take without remorse....Jesus Christ!  Without knowledge of what you've done.  What I allowed you to do.  I granted you this permission and now the gates won't close.  They've grown rusty with tired rage;  The hinges caked with dutiful diligence.  Why do I carry on in this?  Why do I permit the gates to remain in disarray and ill regard?  I want you out.  I want the gates to disintegrate and to have never have known your name.  You come to me in dreams without consent and fuck with me throughout the day.  Your unwitting refusal to be gone is infuriating.  To say this to your stupid haunting face would do no benefit.  You wouldn't even understand.  You don't even know my name.

I drained myself for the thought of the potential of you.  What have you done with all the power I gave you?  The least.  The worst.  You've done nothing.  It was all me.  It's been all on me and I sacrifice for a creature with no heart.  No concept of what it means to offer, to self-deny.  I can't even fucking blame you.  Or can I?  You knew.  I knew you knew.  We all knew you and know now.  You continued to creep back so steadily, so noisily.  You announced your arrival like a truck filled with bricks crushing a crowd of unaware onlookers.  Yet no apology.  No regard.  no notice.  Are you capable?  Are you able to feel what I've felt?  Do people like you get this?  I want you gone.  Do you hear me, you fucking worm?  Slithering about within my sleeping sight so I can't rid myself of you nor figure out where you are still finding ways in.  How do you block your subconscious from reaching you?  How do you keep things that seem out of your grasp under control?  I never even laid my hands upon you yet you haunt me as though I had.  I hate what I've allowed you to do.  I should have.  I should have.