everytime i include bad poetry, i want a high five from someone, and i accept that at that moment a unicorn sheds a tear.
June 17, 2009
dicks
everytime i include bad poetry, i want a high five from someone, and i accept that at that moment a unicorn sheds a tear.
June 6, 2009
June 4, 2009
what to do
i sit around nowadays, wondering what to do with myself. i've cut all my ties, burned many bridges, and am living as some sort of refugee from real lfe in my parents' apartment. it's embarassing to try and fail so many times at something that should be relatively simple: get up, don't ruin own life, avoid selling your possessions on a consistent basis.
i get sick of how some people pat themsleves on the back for not being able to stay clean or be ANOTHER BRICK IN THE CORPORATE WALL, MAN. but slipping between the cracks and barely making ends meet is just as much of a lazy, asshole, narcissist cop out. being a drug addict sucks. it's the result of bad ideas, and unfortunately, thinking you're way too cool for WAY too long. i don't feel sorry for myself for anything that has happened, i made stupid decisons that were immature and selfish at best and completely retarded at worst.
i don't know where this is going exactly.
there are so many things i want to do now that i have little to no personal freedom. having no keys, no money, and having to report to your mother again makes one think about everything that they could do. in the span of a day i've contemplated getting my guitar back, learning to drive, learning to paint, riding my bike from my old apartment to here, learning to draft, and volunteering at the SPCA. in six months i will have accomplished none of this. !!!!!!!
maybe i should travel. i'm in my twenties, let the tour of the world begin. i am entitled, i am half white and from a middle class background and did my hard time in one semester of college.
i think i want to go somewhere but don't know if travelling is like some sickness that makes you think you're world weathered because you stayed in a hostel in malaysia with a bunch of other white college students flying in on jumbo jets.
i think this is when the "maybe you should just get a job" sign should start flickering in my head.
i get sick of how some people pat themsleves on the back for not being able to stay clean or be ANOTHER BRICK IN THE CORPORATE WALL, MAN. but slipping between the cracks and barely making ends meet is just as much of a lazy, asshole, narcissist cop out. being a drug addict sucks. it's the result of bad ideas, and unfortunately, thinking you're way too cool for WAY too long. i don't feel sorry for myself for anything that has happened, i made stupid decisons that were immature and selfish at best and completely retarded at worst.
i don't know where this is going exactly.
there are so many things i want to do now that i have little to no personal freedom. having no keys, no money, and having to report to your mother again makes one think about everything that they could do. in the span of a day i've contemplated getting my guitar back, learning to drive, learning to paint, riding my bike from my old apartment to here, learning to draft, and volunteering at the SPCA. in six months i will have accomplished none of this. !!!!!!!
maybe i should travel. i'm in my twenties, let the tour of the world begin. i am entitled, i am half white and from a middle class background and did my hard time in one semester of college.
i think i want to go somewhere but don't know if travelling is like some sickness that makes you think you're world weathered because you stayed in a hostel in malaysia with a bunch of other white college students flying in on jumbo jets.
i think this is when the "maybe you should just get a job" sign should start flickering in my head.
June 3, 2009
over a year
i haven't written in this in over a year. i guess it's now or never. not really.
anways, my life is changing far too fast for me to even attempt to understand. in the past week i have lost my apartment, my two cats, most of my money, and my fiancee.
it was so typical it was pretty much a yet to be written my so called life episode. fiancee growing sick of the kind of life that involves selling all possessions and eating at food banks, money gone to a relapse that left him so thin it was kind of not even charming in a teenage heroin chic fantasy way that suburban kids dream about in junior high. i didn't want to lose him, i wish i could take everything back and not consistently fuck up any hope of me being with him. but sometimes it seems sadly impossible.
i have given up on trying to make sense of anything anymore. there was no warning that this would happen, really. i thought i could trot along as usual, try to hold everything together, try to scrounge money and pay rent and live from day to day. but i can understand that not everyone wants to live that way. that pat had to open a door and jump ship. not to say i'm without anger or complete grief about him leaving. it is hard for me to wrap my tiny brain around the fact that someone who was living with me, as my partner, in a shared apartment, with his head on my shoulder on friday could leave me without even a phone call by saturday mid-afternoon. HOW COULD SOMEONE DO MEAN THINGS TO ME? :(
all this commotion is making my stomach hurt, making me sweat constantly, pick my fingers, curl my toes. it stops for a minute and i have a panic attack. it's either too fast or too slow.
for now i am trying to take some advice for once and just let go. not try to grab frantically at the memory of me and pat. not try to scramble my words over the phone in attempts to convince him that this can work, please don't leave, please just can we go back to the apartment i'll move my stuff in by tomorrow i'm different i understand now i swear to god I CAN CHANGE.
they say complicated grief involves the inability to let go, open yourself up to complete mourning and pain. like grasping at straws. i think i've always had some of that. i'm attempting to let go of all that bullshit. hopefully this time around it works. i picture myself opening up my shirt and having a dozen white doves followed by a unicorn fly out and then a rainbow fall out of my chest and into the sky. that's my image of letting go.
he is gone. there is no relationship. it is over. i am alone. there are clothes to be sorted and things to get done around here. i can't just sit on my ass and cry for the rest of my human life. as much as i'd really and truly like to at this point. there are rainbows that need to be rainbowed.
anways, my life is changing far too fast for me to even attempt to understand. in the past week i have lost my apartment, my two cats, most of my money, and my fiancee.
it was so typical it was pretty much a yet to be written my so called life episode. fiancee growing sick of the kind of life that involves selling all possessions and eating at food banks, money gone to a relapse that left him so thin it was kind of not even charming in a teenage heroin chic fantasy way that suburban kids dream about in junior high. i didn't want to lose him, i wish i could take everything back and not consistently fuck up any hope of me being with him. but sometimes it seems sadly impossible.
i have given up on trying to make sense of anything anymore. there was no warning that this would happen, really. i thought i could trot along as usual, try to hold everything together, try to scrounge money and pay rent and live from day to day. but i can understand that not everyone wants to live that way. that pat had to open a door and jump ship. not to say i'm without anger or complete grief about him leaving. it is hard for me to wrap my tiny brain around the fact that someone who was living with me, as my partner, in a shared apartment, with his head on my shoulder on friday could leave me without even a phone call by saturday mid-afternoon. HOW COULD SOMEONE DO MEAN THINGS TO ME? :(
all this commotion is making my stomach hurt, making me sweat constantly, pick my fingers, curl my toes. it stops for a minute and i have a panic attack. it's either too fast or too slow.
for now i am trying to take some advice for once and just let go. not try to grab frantically at the memory of me and pat. not try to scramble my words over the phone in attempts to convince him that this can work, please don't leave, please just can we go back to the apartment i'll move my stuff in by tomorrow i'm different i understand now i swear to god I CAN CHANGE.
they say complicated grief involves the inability to let go, open yourself up to complete mourning and pain. like grasping at straws. i think i've always had some of that. i'm attempting to let go of all that bullshit. hopefully this time around it works. i picture myself opening up my shirt and having a dozen white doves followed by a unicorn fly out and then a rainbow fall out of my chest and into the sky. that's my image of letting go.
he is gone. there is no relationship. it is over. i am alone. there are clothes to be sorted and things to get done around here. i can't just sit on my ass and cry for the rest of my human life. as much as i'd really and truly like to at this point. there are rainbows that need to be rainbowed.
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