.

"You know, at one time, I used to break into pet shops to liberate the canaries. But I decided that was an idea way before its time. Zoos are full, prisons are overflowing... oh my, how the world still dearly loves a cage."
-"Harold and Maude"

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Some Bull Shit

I'd write an entry of sensicalness but I'm lacking that at the moment.
Let the tangled words drip.
So go, Saga
Feeling the Blitzkreig bop in Cincinnati?

You're towering over my head

Mom got me a beautiful bracelet in celebration of my sobriety.
I may be sober, but I still have my vices.
I cut Thursday. 3 days ago that is. It's not bad. superficial bull shit that doesn't quite match the rest.
WHY DO I DO THIS? There's shame, embarrassment, secrecy, danger.  But there's also comfort, familiarity, release, relief, something tangible to watch heal.  If this blog had my name on it... But it doesn't, that's not the point.
I've been self injuring literally over half my life. It's so built in at this point.  So many have given up on me. Sometimes I give up. I KNOW HOW IT IS JUVENILE! I know how it feels good for a few minutes then worse for quite some time. I am not an idiot (even if my actions are idiotic). I know exactly what I'm doing to my body. It makes no logical sense. Nor do I.
Fuck. That. Shit.

When the hell will I "grow up"? Will I actually get any taller?

ghost candles are watching me
the fake tree fell down but I don't want to get off the couch
I've melted
need another toke
need more diet coke
need a body I like to live in

Watching fucked up shit on tv always makes me feel better about myself. I know, so human, right? Don't act like it doesn't do the same to you. Yes, yes, I have the empathy. But I'm merely flesh with gray matter behind my eyes.

I slept 14 hours today
still in stolen hospital pants and a gray shirt
there are flies in my apartment from leaving the pizza boxes out
I wish my cat didn't shit so I wouldn't have to deal with it
are you following?

My medication is all off.  I thought I could be at peace without all the little pills surging chemicals through my brain. But, no, then the voices comes back. The ones few know of. The sleeping takes over and I can hear air going in and out of every pore. I shake and shake. Yelping.
One pill, Two pill, Red pill, Blue pill...

It got dark so fast.
Or something.

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