10.6.08

I want to delete everything

kill kill kiLL. I hate everything I've written, every picture I see, I want to delete it all, but myspace is fucking up. (grunting noise of impotent anger) I guess it's for the best, more inscentive to get my computer fixed, I have everything on myspace so I can get it on my hard drive, some fucking day. god I suck.

some well placed plot twists

I think I've come full circle and I hate myself again, ah, it's good to be home. it's hard to miss this familiar loathing, what now right? My mind is in a state of constant rebellion, I think about things and get so fucking pist that I just shut down. like being totally numb is my new coping mechanism. No more forced wit, no more lazy sitting, the most inactive act of running away. What what WHAT do I do now boss. I am a spring, well oiled with alcohol, slowly winding up, I can hear the grinding, tinny music as I am forced down into readiness. and what then? sobriety, writing, music, trials and errors. and more friendship. I need some kind of symbolic act, some ritual to appease my procrastinating monkey. get that fucker off my back. Who am I when I have nothing to live for but the next handful of moments, perhaps some chance happiness and another randomly meaningful encounter. Can a person live and be fulfilled floating like a dust mite swept out the back door, to land in another house, on another couch. What am I doing, I ask myself, how did I get here, have I really learned to let go. my addictions are taking me places I have always been interested to see, I cannot recoil in horror now, I will not let myself. I have to wonder though, is this my resolve, will my constant second guessing offer any help. What fucking difference.

I get sucked into reality tv just like anyone else, oh god, is that what makes me human? myspace and vh1 and wildboyz? how chilling.
I love young paul newman, they don't make em like that anymore. oh, I really have nothing to offer, shortlived winning personality, that turns people cold and hot at times, I can be flaky, I can be lazy, is this really the image I project. I do not contribute, to society? to individuals? how is contribution measured? money, time, household chores, inspiration? could I ever be so vain as to say I've inspired someone? I hardly inspire myself. I am grown tired of crawling around inside my head, I'm sure anyone reading this has as well.