Part 2. Missed Part 1? It can be found somewhere within the bowels of this website.
The pharmacy is in the back and is the only real reason we exist. There are sixteen aisles in the store, only two of them matter. Aisles thirteen and fourteen, this is where we keep the over the counter medication. They are also the two numbers I have grown to hate because if the customers aren’t telling me their life story then they are asking me where something is. I say these two numbers so much that when thrown a curve ball of a question that has nothing to do with what is on those aisles I still say thirteen or fourteen and have to quickly change my answer. It is the little things that make you go insane.
The store has everything anyone could need in a live or die situation. Of course some things cost a lot more here than some other places, but the deals are fair and we get a lot of the locals coming in regularly. Every day is nearly the same as the day before it, but every now and then something changes. Like cigarette prices that have risen since New York State decided they needed more money to redecorate their offices or spend on hookers. In case you were wondering hookers are getting quite expensive it seems especially since the cost of their cigarettes went up. It’s a vicious cycle that every one of us has to pay. Because someone has to be making money off of something.
My break is almost up and I really don’t want to walk back in there and put on a fake smile, like I give a shit. I don’t know how I got myself into this situation, but yet in some twisted way I do. If it wasn’t for the drugs I don’t know what I would do with myself. I am rather confused about how everything really is and I often wonder if it is my brain that is lying to me. I throw my cigarette down on the ground, it makes a hissing noise as it penetrates the snow. I twist the cap off my shitty energy drink and swallow another pill that I most certainly need to get through the rest of my shift. It is another long day in hell and I welcome it with a smile.
The thing about it is. That it is really hard to chop up this book or burn it. I mean I guess you could, but who has that kind of money? If you do then you are in luck because…
Look I’m not very good at selling my soul which is why I have to do it and not someone I pay is doing it. Jesus that’s a bad sentence. I’m not sure what about it is bad. I just don’t like it.
I really like playing the asshole, the liar, the thief it’s so much easier than it is to be me. I just can’t take the loneliness. I’m lonelier now than I was before I gave it all up. The voices in my head have taken over and there is no telling what they have or haven’t said at this point. The long conversations I once had have given into a world that I have created. My life has been a long spiral down to this point. I’m at the bottom and I really don’t feel any worse than when I was at the top. Gone are the days where anything makes sense, the days of innocence, and the days plagued by truth. Here and now is hell. No longer am I waiting to grow up. Now I’m just waiting to die. I’ve never felt any more at home than I do now.
The best known secrets are the ones everyone already knows, but are too afraid to admit. We all give up on our dreams or on ourselves at some point. Natural progression of life I assume. Best example crotch fat. Fucking kill me at that point. Why would we even store fat there? How the fuck is that even an option? Did the ass run out of room and the belly declare it is too full? I’d cut it off with a rusty knife. What exercise is there to even fight this? I guess at that point you are just fucked.
A customer just told me that the artificial sugars in gum are basically poison. So she buys a thirty pack and heads on home.
I got the best house on the block, the fear of admiration by my peers, and the whole world waiting at my feet. What more could I possibly want from this world? I’m no longer hungry and that scares me. Frightens me to the core of my very existence and yet I will do nothing about it. I can’t anymore. The times have come and gone. A new era of my life has begun. One where I am no longer poor. One where I have everything I could ever want. All I have to do is maintain and I’ll be fine. Throwing more cash in the fire I leave for France tomorrow. I don’t even like going there anymore. I’m going to go. My life is so sad it depresses me.
My mother got remarried. I don’t like to talk about it much, but it makes me feel like an outsider in a distant land. Family events have become horrible because of this. I feel out-of-place and disconnected from everyone else. So much so that I spend most of the evening hiding as if I’m not even there. My mother’s new family are all nice people, but they are strangers none the less. I think it is so hard for me to connect with them because there are so many. For most of my life it has been me and my mom. Thanksgiving, Christmas, and any other family gathering event. It was always just the two of us and now there is only a room full of people I don’t know. I’m not at a family event now but I am supposed to stop by after work. I won’t be going tonight though I lie and say I will. It is easier this way. Maybe too easy for me. I’m sure my mother will be heartbroken and she will wait patiently for me to walk through the door at any moment. This is probably an over dramatic realization. Too many movies have rotted my brain. I’m sure a room full of people will not miss one more. As I said the easy way out. Push everything a side and move on. The times have changed from what they used to be and I need to get used to the way things are.
We’ve all got our reasons to be here tonight. Every night. For some of us it is our crippling lack of wealth. For others it has evolved into the only way we know how to live. A violent transformation of shit. A hurricane with no eye. We spin and spin watching the world go by in a blur. We learn things too late or not at all. We are at war? We are on the verge of going bankrupt? We are to be fired? News of the world is nothing and means nothing. There is always a job to do. Most everything beyond that comes as a surprise though we could never really understand the word at this point.
Numb, depressed, destructive these are words we can understand. These are words we live and believe in at this moment and time. My fear however is that they will be replaced with home, suicidal, destroyed. Blending into the madness is hard at first. At first everything is difficult. Time has a way of breaking you in. Grinding you down into the monsters we have become. Humanity, justice, sleep are all lost on us. The very idea of those words disappear in the darkness of our minds. I’ve given up hope that they will return anytime soon. From what little I can recall of the words and their ideas, the thoughts they convey, only make you weak.
Weakness will kill you in this prison of freedom. We remind ourselves that there is always something worse, but is there? The day walkers ask us if we are able to balance life at work and at home. We lie something we all have become masters at. We lie and say we can. We hope this lie will free us, but it never does. How can we maintain lives with little to no sleep? Am I alive? Yes. Do I live a life? Can you repeat the question? Hobbies become sleep. Self-worth becomes units per hour. Desperation becomes an everyday occurrence. They push us harder into the madness. More cases, new product, revolving door of people, shorter deadlines, and on and on. “Never good enough. Should have been done already. Maybe if you were faster. Don’t worry we are getting some more new people in here.” The quotes and shit they say goes on and on. Hate the day walkers. Fear the day walkers. Wish you too could become a day walker.
Though after what we have been through how could we ever quit, walk away, do something else, and then what would have all this been for? Start at the bottom again. Start over with nothing. Start over damaged. The company is a good company to work for I’m told. They pay you well. How do you like it? What can I say? So I say nothing and harbor my pain and sorrow. Could always be worse. Worse than feeling not good enough each and every night. Worse than a nightly reassurance that my worthlessness has driven me beyond a point. A point I will never return from. Becoming nothing more than destroyed, suicidal, and at home.
Not the Answer
Sex is an ugly thing
Do what you have to do
Then it’s all over
I write because I have to
Then it’s all over
I’d stay and talk
But I have to write
This all over
A process with meaning
Still no answers
Atheism is a question
Is there a God?
Or am I only alone
Sold a million books
Reprised the question
Why am I doing this?
If it’s not worth the effort
You think you know
And so do I
But I’m a liar
Do what I have to do
To get between your thighs
I am an animal
But then why do I feel so bad
Did what I had to do
This is no lie
This is no question
I am what I am
Is not the answer
Pizza and Beer
I am nothing anymore
My mind but a blender
I want to kill the world
But my reasons get returned to sender
I have a list of everything I need to do
I have a task at hand which I hand off to you
One step at a time
Seems more like a reason to die
I thought it would give me a cause
I thought it would make me noble after all
How wrong I was
How stupid I could be
If I put a gun in my mouth
The solution would seem so clear to me
My teeth are rotten
My body is broken
Everything is a mystery until you have no need for it
I feel like I feel, though I’m not sure
Are you paying attention? Does this all seem as though no one else knows? I’d give you a clue, but even they are lost on me. Driven to madness I had no choice. I hope you understand that my soul is now available on Kindle….Enjoy…
Days Keep on Going
Every day is exactly the same with only one slight variance. Wake up, take drugs, and go to either work or school. On really good days I just sit here and never move. This is what my life has become since she left me. My own personal prison. I can’t really say that I hate it all that much. We are all after some sort of prison when you stop to think about it. At least mine is my own.
Lately I haven’t had to go to college because of winter break, and to be honest I wasn’t really going that much before anyways so it’s all the same to me. School starts in a few weeks, I am almost certain, and I’m really not looking forward to it at all. I never wanted to go there in the first place, but my Mom told me if I wanted to continue to live in my house that I had to go to school. Really kind of a shitty situation but then again I live rent free. This frees up my money for the things that keep me going.
I know a man in town and he basically keeps me hooked to stay alive. It’s a rather sad existence, but hey I am still alive. I’m currently at work on one of my two fifteen minute breaks. I work in a drug store and some might say that’s not the best place for someone on drugs to work, but they were hiring and I need a job. When I started though I was a lot more stable. Working here isn’t really that bad, it’s just a bit mind numbing. It’s surprising the amount of stupid people in the world, but then again it’s probably not. I have a lot of time to reflect on such trivial thoughts such as intelligence. I work up front which is to say that I man the cash register. The company likes to pretend that I am nothing more than a cashier by giving me the title check out specialist. I don’t specialize in anything other than getting you the fuck out.
I could care less about your problems even though I smile and nod the whole time. All I am really thinking about is how much longer will your bullshit really affect me. I hate it when people talk to me about what they are buying as if I care at all. I really don’t care that you are buying laxatives, condoms, and a Mother’s Day card. All of this is trivial and pointless to me and my life.
It only gets better from here. Not a fan? Literally gets better from here because. Almost had me. I love to talk about my book. Questions? Ask them. Seriously comment away or get at me on twitter. It is sad and lonely in this cage. The chicken stopped talking once I ate him, and let’s be honest he didn’t have much to say before that either….
His body is still right before it slams into the hood of the minivan. The impact throws his body like a rag doll out of my view, and further into the busy street. I rush to be near him, but I have a feeling he is closer to me now than ever before. His body lays in a tangled mess of blood, lacerations, and broken bones. The man I once loved is no longer there and all that exist is his empty shell of a body.
A crowd starts to form around his body as I fall to my knees. I cry like I have never cried before. I cry as if my tears will bring him back to life and end this pain running through my body. I try to hold him, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I’m so lost and confused, and there is so much blood. Someone calls 911, but it is too late for them to do anything. The blood takes the form of a trail leading to the nearest sewage drain. I don’t know what that means. Does any of this mean anything at all? I grab his body with all my love, “What does any of this mean?”
The paramedics arrive and ask me to let go of him, but I can’t bring myself to let go of his body. “Sir you need to let go of him. Sir he needs to go to the hospital,” one of them repeats over and over again. They force me to let go of him and I am covered in his blood. The cops hold me back as the paramedics load his body onto the ambulance, and drive him away. Leaving me behind in a world that doesn’t understand. A world that doesn’t care what we have been through.
They are trying to convince a generation built on speed, built on now to go slower on the streets. They might as well convince a dog to shit in the toilet. All of the skills are there but the instinct? Not so much. No one wants to go slower. If anything they want to go faster. Walk faster, talk faster, and be done faster. No one wants to do anything that takes time. This generation or the last. We are not designed to live in the now only the future. Even if that means a chance at death. Life itself is a chance at death.
He had so much anger growing up. I saw it right away. I knew I was going to have to do something so I told him, “You don’t hit anyone ever. You never hit a woman, a man, a child I don’t care who it is you never hit anyone” “But I want to dad,” he would say. “I know you do son but you don’t that’s life. You get in this ring though and you knock them the fuck out.” That’s what I would tell my son. That’s the strength I put in him. They say rich kids don’t fight and they’re wrong. Some people are born with this rage, this passion, this anger and money don’t have a fucking thing to do about it. If they don’t channel it. If they don’t get it out it consumes them. Destroys them and I wasn’t about to let that happen to my boy or anyone else.
Day in, day out, 9 to 5, 9 to whenever, however you want to put getting fucked. I am lost within myself. Lost in the dark. The theme is something I carry with me every second of every day. The lights all burned out. No longer even a flicker of a flame. Absolute dark. If only I could get beyond this. Step into the figurative illusion of this so-called light I’m missing in my life. Maybe then. Maybe somehow I could be who it is I always dreamed I could be. Then again maybe it will all one day come together for us all. I doubt it, but that could very well be who I am. In the end we all have something to say. In the end we all have our place in obscurity. We all have our own personal hell to wander through.
Woke up with little to say
Now should be the time to strike
At a loss for how I feel
The words circle my mind without a thought
Miss guided, maybe
Lost as always
A constant need to say everything I am thinking
When will I ever shut up
My mind is always repeating
Coming up with more and more
Some of it worth saying, most of it the same shit as before
A bent helix and nothing more
Page turner is hard to come by
Wouldn’t understand unless you are already at my level
Zero sleep, pumping caffeine directly into my vein
Could OD and feel the same
An absolute with absolutely nothing at all
Foreign ideas lost in familiar land
Said we are the same but I have no idea who these people are
Learned to live so far away from here
They said it was the same and they couldn’t be more wrong
America failed itself over and over
Each generation a lost nation soaked in blood
A dirty mind lost in thought
I often wonder what it feels to die
Does it feel like I do now
All alone with no one to talk too
I do this to myself
Yet I don’t know the answers to my own questions
I often wonder how soon
Will all this prove to be meaningless
They say you pave your own way
But what if it’s not true
What if this is nothing more than a collection
Of me and you
I often wonder about God
Am I him or is it you
All reason would lead to nothing at all
I feel like I know what I’m saying
But in the end it all seems to come out the same
Blood in blood out and all that shit
Maybe life is nothing more than a brotherhood
Of bull shit
I do this to myself
Get all upset for no good reason
I often wonder what it feels to die
And I know it has to feel like this
Now Available Where All Kindle Books Are Sold…. Yes I Sold Out Because It Is All That I Know….
If time is the only thing I don’t have left
Why does it seem to take forever
Breaking down the doors between mad and insane
Smashing bloody fists to let me in
I’ve got sex on the brain with no chance of getting any
Do this to myself
I’m destroying myself
Hating myself for all the things I didn’t do
Regretting the little things that I have done
No one to blame, but those around me
My hate grows from inside
A burning that doesn’t die even after I am done
Stupidity should be a crime and your excuses are filled with lies
Ignorance is bliss until you open your mouth
A piss soaked stench that I can’t wash from my mind
The shit keeps piling up against you, straight to the ceiling it’s all there is
So sick of swimming in it, the taste consumes me
Baseball bat to the head I already know I’m swinging at the dead
Feels so good to let it out
Silence comes across the stage to hush me, to shut me out
Chewing on my own leg in hopes that you will shut up
There is a story hidden in all of this
The screaming makes everything confusing or make sense
Haven’t decided and I’m not willing to give up yet
Sleeping on a floor of mismatched fabrics has made me bitter
Your English sucks and you’ve never done as you were told
An animal that I can’t live without
A fear quilted together from many little wishes
How can one person have so much hate
I love you anyways
Fuck It and See What Happens
Historically we have been heading this direction
A dictatorship might do us some good
Democracy was such bullshit in the end
Did we really think that we could pull it off
A day long crisis of faith
Time to pick ourselves back up and do it again
Screaming for blood, screaming for a revolution
All that is, is noises inside your head
Too lazy to get up off your ass
Sucking at the tit of modern industry
If this all collapsed what if anything could you do for yourself
Wipe your tears and understand we were never meant to win
A blanket of hypocrisy pulled tighter with every turn
Broken down system was never going to let the right ones in
Money is all that it takes
Can you speak it, understand it, pray to it
The new gods are paid in gold not hopes and dreams like the old
We talk of freedom as we rattle our chains in protest
Does any of this really surprise you anyways?
The invisible cage of society was built to lock us in
You either struggle to succumb or succumb to struggle
Our voice, our pain, our survival are nothing more than talking points
Bullet points on a page, check marked so they know what to say
No matter the outcome our fears won’t go away
The bottom holds the top because we let it
So shut the fuck up if you are not willing to try
Fuck it and see what happens
Rationally this all has to make some sense
On a human level we can’t all be laid to rest
Someone has to be left to do all the work
A grinding of flesh and bone
For centuries this is the way of the world
The digital age gave away to mass laziness
A sense of retrospection and wonder
Breeding of weakness spread out over time
If it all came down the collapse would be more than once thought
the fear growing over time
It has to be known that this will all fail
We always find a way to let the wrong one in
A screeching halt of metal and gears
How does one rise from a dead stop
Someone has to do all the work
But who when we’ve all given up
Rationally this all has to make some sense
A broken spiral with crippling regret
Everything has always been one big problem. One after another in an endless cycle. Everyone and everything about them has been a problem since the dawn of time. The words can’t escape my head fast enough. No one expects shit from me any ways. They all assume they can ride my ass to the promise land.
Loaded gun resting in my mouth I’m so done with that shit. I’m so sick of everything and everyone pushing me to do it. My misery means more to everyone else than it does for me. Push as hard as they like won’t do them any good. If I haven’t done it yet then I’m never going to do it.
Too fucking bitter, too fucking beat down to even bother. The world revolves around no one and it sure as fuck won’t stop because you do. I want so much more from this world than it could ever give to me. Living more lives inside my head than I can put ink to the page. I guess that’s how you know the safety is on. Don’t want to die just enjoy the threat of it all.
Doesn’t make up for the bleeding asshole the world likes to provide. The nightly penetration gets old, but it also becomes familiar. Constantly on edge. Who the fuck knows what retarded ass shit they will come up with in the morning. What new bull shit policy they make up on the spot? Seems I enjoy the abuse. Really I’m only tired of starting over. Wasting away years of my life only to be like fuck it. Compliance with old age is the real killer.
The gun slips from my lips. What am I doing here? Must be how the mad man feels after pulling the trigger if they feel anything at all. Not feeling anything must feel nice. No one gets off that easy. Everyone has to suffer. Some more than other I guess.