Friday, September 24, 2010

So how do I do normal?

I'm a slow motion accident - lost in coffee rings, and finger prints.

I'm still trying to figure it out.....but in the meantime I do what I can to not think about it.


Things like this:









I know it's wrong.  And it's not healthy - but it's distracting enough.

I try to avoid it - but sometimes I can't stop myself. The cuts get deeper every time and I worry that I might go too far.

But when I can breathe again it's ok.  and it doesn't hurt that bad.....at least nothing compared to the inside.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

honesty...or something like it...

I finally told someone.  A co-worker.  A confidant.  A close friend.

happened b/c I was very drunk and let my mouth run away at will...but I don't regret it.

I don't think....

...not sure how I feel about it.  mostly b/c I'm still drunk and I really don't give a shit about anything but sleep ATM.

sleep or puke.  that's where my priorities lie currently....I think I'll go w/sleep.  the latter is just entirely unappealing.



***

dizzy


pulse pounding in my ears; heavy w/alcohol and exhaustion.

breaths slow and jagged....but it's not so bad.


the blade holds no pull for me tonight; for the first time in a long time.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

Erring on the side of tragic...

Steady diet of oxycodone, nicotine, alcohol, and caffeine.  Everything is fucked up.




But I make it look calm.  Easy.  Perfect.   Serene façade.  


You stopped looking for the cracks.  Fairly ironic; seeing as how I was so close to letting you know they do, in fact, exist.


Another pill.  Another Drink.  Smoke something.  Drink some more.  The thought of whether or not this will be my last doesn't really cross my mind.








...maybe it should.

Friday, July 2, 2010

I really shouldn't....

be drinking vodka out of the bottle like it's water.

take percocets at the same time.

give a fuck about it - but I do.

keep playing into the charade - but I am.

still be awake; alive, but hey- miracles happen.

pick that blade up anymore, but my hand feels empty without it.

be surprised; I made it so.


****

useless

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

all downhill from here

in truth I never expected you stay around forever....I think I always knew.


I just never imagined I'd feel so empty when you did go.



and now I've gone and done a stupid thing.
but I felt better.

and they say the first cut is the deepest but they're wrong, it's usually too shallow- you don't know what the fuck you're doing.  Now the second cut.....that's the one to watch out for. That's when you get it right.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

as if any of it meant something

alcohol no longer burns in my throat.  in fact I'm so accustomed to the feel, it may as well be water.  But water doesn't have the components I require to survive.  It doesn't aid in blurring the edges of things you don't want to focus on.  And as of late there is much that has been drawn too sharply into the light - I just want it to go away.

If I thought I didn't sleep much before, well that was nothing compared to now.  Not that anyone could tell.  magic's in the make-up, as they say.  besides that I'm pretty epic at only allowing people to see what I want them to.  But we've gotten off topic.  sleep.  it's hard to find....but I've discovered that it helps if you try looking in the bottom of a liquor bottle and a handful of pills.  Dangerous?  nah, got a good tolerance going.

and every night, as I sink deeper, I try to figure out why I am so fucked up about all of it?  Why do I care?  Oh yeah....you'll have that when you let people in.  And those bastards are the worst; the ones that make you care.  they sneak in quietly - fucking emotional ninjas.

But after the satisfying twist of a second bottle cap, that becomes background noise.  annoying, and it pulls at you sometimes - but for the most part you can shrug it off.

and in the times you can't, well....you find something that will.  some nights are spent laying in bed with that shiny relief in hand.  you're obsessed with it, staring at the edges; knowing if you could just man up and do it, you'd feel so much better.  but you bitch out.  fumble around until you find a pharmaceutical that works.

but eventually.....that won't work.  eventually the night will be too long and undoubtedly too much to handle.  that's when the courage will come forth.  all it will take is one time.  then you'll need it, just like you need everything else.


I look at all of this, and it makes me sick.  but that, like all the rest, I ignore.  all of it lost.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Looking back is easy, remember that it's just the past...that's the hard part.

I guess time really does change a lot of things.  Hell, it changes everything.  How things look, how things feel, who we are, and who we are becoming.  It is only when you take the briefest of moments to look back, do you notice the stark contrast of then and now.  Time is not a friend, nor is it an enemy- time just is. Ever present from your intake of breath, to the death of seasons.

Living in the past, it doesn't really make much sense.  Nothing is the same as it was a minute ago, an hour ago, a year ago.  Life isn't the same, the world isn't the same, and you sure as hell aren't the same; try as you might to never change.

Things that you thought were important fall by the wayside when it's 2 am, and you're sitting in the bath room; typing out pieces of your soul into the ether.  Somethings come into focus sharply; sticking you like a needle forgotten in a garment you're wearing.  Others fade into shadow; like the moon cast behind clouds on a cool Fall night.

Or maybe all you're left with is questions and fears.  Things that gnaw at you; tear at you from your internal purgatory.  The things that drive you.  Things that make you grateful for the passage of time, because every minute that passes is minute further from this.  Another minute, another lifetime.

Suddenly time itself is changed.  Transmogrified into a bright, shiny penny found heads-up on the pavement.  New and full of promise.

Sunday, March 21, 2010

that's when things get interesting...

imported beers, the sudden realization of the enormity of your own boobs, and "he ate my heart, then he ate my brain".

yup.



I reckon that's normal.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

smoke and mirrors aren't what they used to be...


-M.A.H.


Every day is another face,




Every day is another fake across the street.


Every night is an alibi.

Every night is another lie in your eyes.
Is there a meaning in the makeup?









Is there a meaning in the makeup?

Saturday, February 20, 2010

fault line

if things made sense, that'd be too easy wouldn't it? because it would all make sense.

I think sometimes things need to be picked up and put somewhere else for you to really see them for what they are.                    

truth is my sanctuary        

for the record, I'm not fucking stupid.                                                                                                                                  

Thursday, February 11, 2010

conundrum, thy name is "friend".

I have learned that when you're questioning something, whether it is or isn't this or that, it usually is.  The fact that it gives you pause enough to question it, is telling.  And not in a good way.

So do you pretend that you don't know what you do know, and swallow the lies?  or do you confront it all knowing everyone will bleed, and very little will be salvageable?

or do you lie in wait, hoping they will come clean?


options suck.

Friday, February 5, 2010

Outstretched Hands: Resuscitation of Life

Oddly reminiscent of time long past.

Warm breezes through open windows.  Chewing tentatively on the cord to my headphones; lips flushed.  Black Rebel Motorcycle Club flowing softly in one ear, while the nightly news floats into the other; meeting in the middle with a rather pleasant overlap.  Soothing.  The clinking of ice cubes in a glass; taste of sweet tea lingering on my tongue.

flash forward

Crackling fireplace; faint snowflakes being stirred in the little gusts of wind.  A much loved friend rests her head in my lap, eyes fixed on the TV.  Hands running through thick, curly hair giving comfort; while a bare foot is nuzzled under the warm belly of a snoring St. Bernard.  Random breaks in time being asked questions I have no answers to, but say them anyway.


The feeling is the same.  Home.  Contentment.  No judgments, just love.

Don't waste time wishing it was forever, just enjoy it while it's here.  Snuggle closer, get high off the quiet.  Spout off random philosophy, and dreams of the future.  Nothing much is actually said, but nothing goes unspoken.  Don't think about how your heart will break when you have to go.  Don't, don't......just breathe.

Monday, February 1, 2010

varied realities

I am unsure about what motivates me currently.  I know in large part it is the overwhelming desire to move beyond where I am now.  At the beginning it was more a means to an end.  But now...for some ungodly reason I've commissioned upon myself this personal challenge of sorts.  See exactly how much I'm capable of.  See how far I can push myself.  Is there a breaking point?  I'd like to find out.  So far, by the grace of the divine, it has worked in my favor; with no real ill effect.  (other than the even more massive consumption of caffeine and occasionally nicotine.)  Ok, and maybe a few other bad habits...but we'll let those lie quietly in the shadows.  I am not even sure I'm typing what I think I am; am I even awake?  It feels as though the world as seen through my eyes, and then transmuted through my fingers to the screen, is often a surreal state.

I feel as though perhaps I am talking circles around myself.  I can't seem to form cohesive thoughts in my present state...

Saturday, January 23, 2010

the appearance of calm

anything but, under the surface.

keep pushing, break even further, ignore the pain.






it's dark times, but I'll be my own fucking light.
and I won't be using it to shed light on the shadows you lie in.    

Thursday, January 21, 2010

only as good as the culmanative effects it would have

percocet and vodka make such a lovely combination...


someone else says it better


***
I'm so tired of staring at the wall
But I know I got to put you down
And I keep trying to make sense of it all
But I can't keep going around and around



And your words float like dandelions every other way
I can't keep listening to what you say



'Cause I've heard it all before
I've heard it all before
And I take everything I can
And I'll throw it out the door





And it's too late for wanting
The best thing for me now, so walk by
And you can't keep saying the same thing to me now
So walk by

Everything has a reason for it
Everyone has a story to tell
Everything has a reason for it
Everyone has a story don't they?





Running out of space, I can't see your face
I've forgotten how you used to be
Saying that you love me, that you're thinking of me
Taking my identity





and you can't say that you see me
if you don't know who i am
you can't see that you need me
and neither one of us can be found
if neither one of us can be found





And I try so had not to notice
I try so hard not to care



I try so hard not to show this side of me


***










makes more sense than anything has in a long time.

justification without rationalization

steps down a path that you know you shouldn't stray to.  actions taken resulting in what could only be described as tragically fucked up habits.  fine. fine.  I know what I'm doing.  right?

put oceans between yourself and what grounds you; what keeps you sane.  replace them with vices.  it feels wrong.  add more and more until you can't feel.  then you've done it right.


I am hurting you, I know.  it's selfish.  but still, I block your avenues to me.  you reach, I pull away.  you call to me, I turn a deaf ear.  you question, and I give silence.  but for whose benefit?

I am missed, you say.  well, I miss myself too.



in truth, it fucked me up; but I am fucking myself over daily.  I wouldn't dare let you see me now, you wouldn't recognize me.  I don't recognize me.  

Monday, January 18, 2010

Défier

velvet and cotton dreams, mused about in the faded morning.  a decision is made.


I have earned the right to my silent reservations.
in this I am resolute.




at the end, where I am and where you are will never be the same.
I tire of the subterfuge inherent in my temperament
but it keeps a distance that I require; to survive






things seem grayer when the sunlight fades
but nothing is ever as bright as it truly seems when saturated in brilliance

Thursday, January 14, 2010

striking a balance

buildings bathed in the angry hues of the dying sun.  emotions flushed to the surface then quickly drowned once more.  like a many faceted gem, different sides revealed to me in the glimmering light.  I guess it's all for the seeing, so long as you remember to look.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Outstretched Hands: Realities aren't what they used to be...

Sunlight, reflected off hardwood, stabs into my eyes.  Pull the sheets.  Blot it out.  Too late.  I feel the lonesome tug of longing for the days when the sunlight meant something.  When it isn't just a brilliant, shiny lie.  One used to gloss over the reality of our frozen wasteland.  Hibernating souls.  But not mine.



No.  My warring sides give me no rest.  The one welcomes it.  Happy the world reflects her sorrow.  Cold.  Desolate.  Unforgiving.  Pleased to share the suffering.  Sick.  Twisted.  Joyous.

The other rages silently.  Blinking back tears, refusing to acknowledge the muzzle on her mouth.  Pleading eyes at the distant sun, and at a land thousands of miles away.  I miss you.  Holding onto the remnants of tinkling laughter, a warm breeze through the air, and love.



The latter's thoughts shattered by the cruel backhand of reality from the former.  -That's not your life, and it never was.  You only got to borrow it for a bit.  This is where we are now.  Get the fuck used to it.-

Muffled sobs.

-Let go the romanticized visions of what we lost.  Today we carry each other.-

  




cold embraces, halves to wholes, resigned but solid.