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  1. no eff eks
    I've been living for years in question... some obsession. Was I less to live without answers as a life cried wolf? I'm ashamed to mention my anguish, but silence lies empty. If I say it again can I kill it? Will you lend me your ear?

    Breathe in, breathe out, exhale. Acting. Sweating. A broken smile provides them a view - projection is nothing new. Just once I'd like them to feel this. Suffer in my skin. For a moment stand in my shoes filled with swelling blues.

    I keep this room and the room keeps me chained to my own hands (organs). I'm quarantined in a place that's dark. Staring at three walls. The door is locked behind me.

    If I say it again can I kill it? If I say it again can I kill it?

    Because they are sick of my complaining - and I'm sick of being sick.


    (from the song "sick" by the band Lagwagon)

    I'm full of shit. Every week I end up doing some random research chemical similar to coke/amp/meth and every week I promise myself it'll be the last time. I spend half my fucking tiny income on drugs and have plenty of things I need to pay for which just add up while I waste my money on bullshit.

    I take out my frustration with myself on those around me and on myself. I am better at making amends these days, but I shouldn't need to keep apologizing for being an asshole. I'm just so fucking angry with myself that it spills over to everyone else.

    I am sorry.

    I've had the most amazing year of my adult life and I should be happy. Instead I stick white powders up my nose that cause nothing but insomnia and self-loathing. I don't even know any more...

Comments

  1. no eff eks
    Caught a NOFX show in Minneapolis tonight with Teenage Bottle Rocket and it was a ton of fun. I felt really shitty when I got there, but half way through TBR's set I managed to let go of my bullshit and enjoy myself. NOFX put on a great show and Fat Mike was in a surprisingly jolly mood. I know they do this for themselves but I truly appreciate the passion and joy these guys have for playing music for people half their age.

    The crowd was iffy for TBR... like 20 of us jumping around right in front and 300 people watching with their hands in their pants searching for their balls. I found mine for a few hours tonight and it felt great.

    "Dear Mike - go fuck yourself. fat records sucks. guess what? YOU'RE A SELLOUT"
  2. Beenthere2Hippie
    This is a beautiful read. You spilled your blood onto paper and it shimmers in the long-day's son. Keep writing...
    Chow~
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