The fog is thick against my calloused skin An armor I’m supposed to wear with pride Ashamed to admit it doesn’t make me Feel any better about this life Experiences are all we are made of Cold and calculated Broken hearted Smile the pain away one more time As this life ticks away Every second one more reason Every minute just how it is A burn victim with no symptoms The skin fits tight against my frame Slowly living myself away Invisible scars are all I have To keep me warm at night Against the fog, against the pain We are all here to suffer Think I’ve earned my place by now
The whole thing has left me rather exhausted…
Easier to pick the body apart as it rots As she As she feeds piece by piece Picking apart all the things I thought As she As she tears me apart Still have crimes to answer for Just because I don’t say them Doesn’t mean they don’t consume me A constant nightmare played out in my head Easier to swallow it whole before it rots As she As she constricts my soul Choking me with all my thoughts As she As she tears me apart
I have felt worse things…
Chasing a new kind of enemy A darkness that surrounds me Storm clouds rolling in The thunder shakes the ground Lightning trying to strike me down A hate that comes from within Chasing storms as they roll in A new kind of enemy Hailing down upon me Tornado approaches Standing my ground No more running from my creation Suffering through a new kind of destruction Waiting out the storm that is myself
Things aren’t quite the way they used to be. Things change fact
of life and death. Even if we can change those facts like I have. Things still
very much change. I no longer know who I am or what I have become. I’m not what
most people would consider normal. Well to be honest most would consider me to
be eccentric. They always have from every moment that I can remember. Strange
not normal. Broken and not equal. Different in every sense of the word. They
were right of course, but I guess chasing endless winter is not most people’s
idea of a good time. Not most people’s idea of where I should be or what I
should be doing. But I like the isolation, the cold, the loneliness of it all.
It helps me think and that is all they really want from me in the end. They
want me to think for them. To create for them. Being out here in the nothing
makes me feel more alive than a room full of people sucking up to my money.
Yes, I am rich. Richer than most nations to be exact. To be fair though that
isn’t saying much considering most nations didn’t go with technology. The
choice was too easy to follow me, to invest in my ideas. Man is flawed in that
way. Self-doubt, too easy can’t be the right way. Must resist and so they did.
Investing in war and death. I shouldn’t have to tell you how that turned out.
But history, stories they are summaries of things we already know.
Turns out bombs don’t feed people or build homes or take
care of you when you get old. No, bombs only have one purpose and they do that
function very well. But robots? My robots? They can do so much more than kill.
Most nations fallen to the way side, disappeared off the map of everything including
people’s minds. The advancements were swift, they were quick. I discovered a
loop hole that we had missed. Any easy option no one believed to exist. Greatly
enhanced soldiers that feel no pain, targeting systems that can target any and
everything you may desire, and a defense systems so advanced that it would make
nuclear war less of a fear and more of an annoyance. Whole nations wiping
themselves out before the missiles even left the ground. Only took a few of
these “brave and fearless leader” to wipe themselves out before all nuclear missiles
were deemed obsolete. In fact less bombs destroyed whole nations then had ever
been tested in the history of any nuclear program. I didn’t just make the world
better. I saved humanity and everything with it. These were only the beginnings
of my ideas. Yes, my pockets were lined with dirty dollars of anyone who was
willing to pay for protection. This is capitalism at its finest. This is
everything that we once believed in. Things they change even if we don’t think
that they can.
What is left of Christianity would blame faith in false idols and other dated terms for what was coming. Yes, I am that old. Faith can come to us at any moment, but it can not change in an instant. It is enduring like that unlike nations. The faithful fought the next wave of advancements. Pushed my patience beyond their limits. I grew bored with enhancing nations to the highest bidder. It was time to take my ideas to the people. Take it beyond the surface of what I knew and go deeper. Humans are a flawed design. Boasting about how we are the greatest at everything. Spreading lies beyond the fabric of what we know to be true, but I knew with my help. I could make all our lies, all our fables, all our faith in ourselves. I knew that I could make them true. My advancements in nano tech and hybrid parts brought the revolution to the people. Put everything in their hands to do with as they wished. So long as they paid. So long as they understood what it was they were getting into. They didn’t, but it didn’t matter. Humans adapt to ideas they don’t understand. It is a slow process, but they accept the way things are eventually or they die off. Evolution sits as a theory, but the problem is we understand it better than we think. We accept it as truth even as we question its very existence. Deep down we already knew. We have always known what is that we are, where we come from, and how it will all go. There may be no all-seeing god, but something moves us to follow blindly. I will give them that. No one, not even myself can be as arrogant to not believe in a purpose.
The fall was coming. Everything I had created was going to
turn. Human history is riddle with stories similar to mine. Roman Empire, the Chinese
Dynasties, early man, and the list could follow us all the way to today. Life
doesn’t stop under the wheel of change. It grows stronger. Picking up speed
until we no longer understand what it is that we have created. A bump in the
road, a great fall, but this one was different. This one was not like the rest.
Unlike the falls of the past, the missteps that lead to something else. This
one changed the game. Changed the world and the human race. We moved past
everything we thought we knew. We became something greater than ourselves. The
ones that were left that is. The advancements I made in human tech changed the
game. We became one with the robots. Equal to my creations. Working side by
side until we cleaned up everything. We needed something more though. We always
need something more. We looked to the skies once again. Except this time we
knew that we were ready to face any and all challenges. No longer a dream, but
the next step in our evolution. My evolution, my purpose in this world. For the
first time in human history people are too busy thinking. Thinking of ways to
make everything better rather than how to destroy. For the first time in human
history everyone is thinking like me.
That is why I live here alone like this. That is why among other things I do what I do. I feel this need to distance myself from them. I feel this over encumbering need to be as far away from them as I can. The wind howls outside of my cabin. A few more days left of darkness and the chase will begin again. The world advancing by the minute and my wealth grows. The owner of this world, my empire, lives in near darkness studying the sky for the lost planet no one’s even hear of yet. Trying to make sense of my purpose in this world.
This fucking story… This story didn’t start out like this at all… the original draft was trash… an idea that I didn’t know was there until I looked a lot deeper… So I worked on it… worked with it… typed up the whole thing on my phone… had it all amazing… had it to a point that I thought was good… then technology and my stupidity fucked me… While trying to transfer the file from my phone to my computer… using all the great advancements that Google bestowed onto us… I lost the whole thing…
Back to step one… and I was fucking pissed… I’m still pissed and it has been over a week… still pissed and I have rewritten the whole thing for a second time… but it is over and done?… I just read it… why are you so pissed?… Who cares?… you are right but it doesn’t matter… I’m pissed because the story was vastly different… and how it was different I don’t know… but I know… I write by the seat of my pants… I write until it is done… I purge the thoughts and move on… so if it isn’t written down… saved somewhere… I have no idea what it was that I even said…
So… all that work… all that effort… gone in a flash… and like this character all I think about is progression… not going back… But I had to go back… I had to finish this story… redo this story… because I needed this story for two other stories in this cycle… woke up today… and got it done… It isn’t that bad actually… still pretty pissed that I had to do it again… but for all I know… it might have all been for the best… destruction and loss… may have all been for the best… or maybe it wasn’t… “Faith can come to us at any moment, but it can not change in an instant”…
Nothing changes, never stays the same The present is a waste Looking to the future Stuck in the past Waiting for something new The next thing that wants to kill me A waiting game sitting on my hands Hold me down by the throat if you must Force feed me the pills to silence Won’t make any difference to me Because nothing changes, nothing ever stays the same
Because when you are gone I remember every word you said…
Reflecting on my insecurities Possessive, needy How is it that I make you feel Obsessive, controlling How does it make me feel Dismissive, hating How is it that I make you feel Submissive, defying How does it make me feel An asshole in sheep’s clothing Decisions that you’ve made Won’t go away so, the feelings stay
Become something I’m not…
Drowning out the thoughts with repetitive words Replacing dead memories with empty things Has worked so far Because if I don’t I fall apart Looking at the cracks across the pavement Trying to keep the tears in place, buried in my eyes Drowning out everything with one more drink Replacing dead thoughts with empty ideas Has worked so far Because if I don’t I fall apart Searching for something more among the living Pretending I’m not dead, buried in my eyes Drowning out every depressive thought Hasn’t worked so far Staring at the glass as I pour one more
The blood tasted fresh at first A sickening feeling in my heart Hands around your throat If this is love then I hate the taste The way you make me feel Dying inside, scratching at the casket The earth tasted fresh at first A sickening feeling in my head Broken neck syndrome If this is love then I hate the taste The only way it could have been Only way any of this ever ends
Killing off, cutting off the dead limbs…
So much pain Digging down, buried within Took everything to get here My soul, all the blood Still so far to go Getting up seems to be The hardest part Crawling out of the grave all along A home, a thought I created myself Blame those around me Forever lying to myself The thoughts come to me In a dying song my heart can’t stop Singing
So you think any of this matters…
Hollowed out soul Give me all of your shit Addicted to you Gun stuck in my throat Give me more I’d live but it is not Everything I thought it would be Hung over, burnt out All I wanted was to escape Came back running Too afraid of who I could be Without you next to me
I promises this isn’t becoming a thing… but let’s talk about that last one… It could easily be about a person… might even read that way to you… could easily have been about cigarettes for me… would fit right into how I felt when I tried to quit… but for me it was about alcohol… I didn’t get full blown addicted to alcohol… which is why I was able to write something so clearly… When I tried to write during the time I tried to quit smoking… it was dark… unclear… and I buried it all deep away… when I say it was dark… you know I’m not fucking around…
Addiction can be… is something… that a lot of us can’t escape… I wasn’t even that far along in my alcohol downward spiral… and I still think about it nearly every day… I think for me I was still in that “searching for a feeling phase”… not in “this is me phase” that I am in with cigarettes… point is I was able to get out from under alcohol… I can’t get out from the cigarettes… yes I am aware that is an excuse… I’ve made peace with it… addiction is different for everyone… some addictions are worse than others…
When I hear about people addicted to heroin… it breaks my heart… especially when it is people younger than me… it is a death sentence… not a matter of if… but a matter of when… I can’t judge… we all do what we have to do to see the end of the day… but heroin… pain killers… I’ve never heard… read… or seen any happy stories that end well with heroin… the sooner you seek help the better… never taking them is even better… I can imagine how coming off that shit must feel… and I know I wouldn’t even come close to how it really feels…
I get trying something… I get finding out for yourself… but there are just somethings in this world you shouldn’t fuck with it… I’m no fucking saint… no role model for the next generation… but staying away… seeking help… is all that I can say…
“I think I lost it,” he exhales. “Lost
what?” She asks without facing him. “The ability to write. The
ability to say anything of actual meaning,” he stares into the nothing
that surrounds her. “Why do you suppose that is?” She asks as if she
doesn’t care. “Because I let it rot itself out. I let it go to shit for no
reason. Now it festers there with everything that I try to say. Every idea,
every thought slowly rotting away at me with nothing to say,” he tries to
explain. “Well can’t you get it back if it is right there. Allow yourself
time to heal so to speak?” She asks almost robotically, almost of she is
on rails with her lack of concern. “No, I can’t because in its absence
life got in the way. My brain got in the way. Spread the infection deeper and
deeper. Everything, what little I once had is now gone. I am lost in my own
empathy with nowhere to go. It is as though my life has become one of my
stories. It has become a nightmare,” he rationalizes starring deeper into
the nothing. She turns to him breaking his concentration, “The answer is
simple then.” He stares into her eyes. Where have I seen those eyes
before? “Oh really and what’s that?” He asks while he wonders about
something else. She doesn’t break eye contact as she speaks. “Why don’t
you simply wake up?” She asks in the most serious of tones.
“Jesus Alan, what’s with the screaming?” A woman he
has never seen shouts at him. The words woke him without ever feeling asleep.
Confused on how or what is happening he looks around him. “Right here
asshole. You’ve only been in a coma for three weeks it’s not like it was a
lifetime,” she barks at him. They are sitting in what he assumes is her
office. She is dressed in a business suit as she moves papers around on her
desk. The room fills very high up and the sun is pouring through the windows.
Is this my editor? He wonders. She snaps her fingers breaking his
concentration. Where have I seen those eyes before? He wonders. There is a
glass of water on the desk. He reaches for the glass but he doesn’t understand
why. Everything feels played out. Almost rehearsed. He watches his arm move in
slow motion to pick up the glass. The glass feels almost unreal in his hand.
The water doesn’t move as he lifts up the glass. It doesn’t sweat. It doesn’t
feel like anything. It is almost as if the glass is empty and full at the same
time. The stranger slaps his hand and the glass falls to the floor. The glass
doesn’t shatter and it doesn’t spill. “Don’t drink that your body isn’t
ready. As for who I am and how you got here. Well that’s simple,” she
smiles. “It is?” He asks confused. She snaps again. “You want
the longer version or the short version? She asks. He thinks over what she is
asking. Watching the glass sit perfectly still on its side. “Long I guess.
There’s something wrong with your,” he tries to get out but she cuts him
off. She speaks in rapid tones of noises and what seem like made up words. He
watches as her face mouths the words and the light in the room goes from day to
night and back to day when she stops suddenly. She exhales a long breath.
“Basically you tried to kill yourself and I’m you only
I’m the female you and even then I’m just made up pieces of all the females you
have wanted or dreamed of being with,” she sums up. “All the women?
Where the hell am I?” He asks as layer upon layer of confusion sets in.
“Check it out. Two different people,” she says ignoring his
questioning of this reality. She leans her body over the desk so he can get a
better look of her face. “Two different people,” she moves her head
side to side. “Well really more like twenty, but face wise two. Pretty
cool huh?” She asks without asking. He sits there silently studying her
face. Two very different people he thinks. “Well I think it is cool. I can
tell you have no idea what is happening, but do we really have to be stuck in
this office all day? We can really go anywhere we want and yet we are
here?” She asks. “I don’t understand what is going on,” is all
he can say. She snaps her fingers and the room changes in a blink of an eye.
They are on a beach. Endless sand, but no water. Only the sound of the waves
crashing around them. Their clothes have changed and she notices him staring at
her. “Yeah this breast situation isn’t ideal. To be honest it is a tad bit
awkward,” she moves her chest closer so he can see in an innocently
suggestive manner. One breast is very much bigger than the other one. “One
double D and the other an A. Yeah you are seeing that in real time. Do you have
an idea how difficult it is to find a bra in these dimensions? Let alone what
it is like on a date? Well it is a lot like it is now,” she sighs.
“No, I’m sorry but I created you?” He seems to be questioning himself
more than asking. She looks side to side as if to make sure no one is around.
Only adding to his confusion. “Yeah, you did. Do you see anyone else
around?” She asks. “How could I have done this?” He asks.
“What? Create everything around us or mess up my breasts? Flip of the coin
really,” she says sarcastically. “You don’t have to be like that. I’m
having a really hard time processing all of this,” he states. “I know
I can feel it,” she says in a worried tone. “You need to calm down.
Close your eyes and think of something else. Whatever you want.” He does
as he is told. Closing his eyes and trying to relax. Relax in the darkness of
his mind. “Sweet you fixed my breasts. Thank you, thank you,” she
exclaims with glee. He opens his eyes and the bright sun blinds him at first.
He winces and has he does clouds begin to form in the sky. Bringing down the
intensity of the light until he is comfortable. “Is this heaven?” He
asks with a smile. “This? No, fuck no. What made you think this was
heaven?” She asks. “Well I control everything seems to be the obvious
answer,” he states. She sighs, “Well first off I don’t know much more
than anything than you know as I am you. But last we knew or you knew or
whatever. God controls heaven and you aren’t God so, one could easily assume
based on what you do and don’t know that this is in fact not heaven. Make
sense?” She asks. He shakes his head, “No, not even a little
bit.” She shrugs her shoulders. “That’s it? That’s your answer?”
He asks. “Pretty much,” she states openly. “So I’m not in
heaven. I’m just in a shoulder shrug. Awesome makes sense,” he says.
“You are focusing way too much on things that don’t matter. This is
literally nothing. Physically it is nothing. It feels like something, the sand,
but it is all nothing,” she states. He turns to look around him. Watching
as he changes his surroundings in an instant with only a thought. Watches as
towering trees take over the sky. The sound of the waves still crashing in the
“Why am I here instead of someplace else?” He asks
her. “Because from what I know you were kind of an asshole and even you
have admit a tad bit selfish,” she answers her voice coming from behind
him. “I’m not an asshole and I’m definitely not selfish,” he snaps back.
“Oh really? You’ve been here maybe, well you’ve been here a long time, but
you’ve only been here in this part of nothing for five minutes, and when you
decided to fix my breasts you went with two D’s rather than two A’s. Hell you
could have made me a man, but you didn’t. You chose to keep me as a woman.
Asshole in my book,” she tells him. “I’m not an asshole okay?”
He turns to face her only to find her completely naked and starring back at
him. “I guess you aren’t selfish either?” She asks as though nothing
has changed. “You tried to kill yourself and left everyone behind to shift
through the mountain of shit you left behind. No one asked for that. No one
wanted that, and yet here we are,” she states. She sits down on the newly
formed grass that has appeared before them, “I’m going to let you think about
that for a moment.” She sits with herself exposed pulling the blades of
grass by her feet one by one as he watches her. In an instant she is fully
clothed, “I’m not an asshole and you can’t talk to me like that.” She
doesn’t even bother to look up at him. “Like a broken record this one. At
least you haven’t tried to touch me this time,” she says under her breath.
“And if you aren’t then why do you think you have been here so long?”
She confronts him holding up the blades of grass in the form of a crown.
“You are in control of this and all of this, and still you have no idea
what is going on?” She stands up and all the blades of grass scatter
across the ground. “I don’t know,” he shouts in frustration. “I
wake up in an office, then I’m on a beach, and now I’m in a massive forest with
you every step of the way. I don’t know what is going on,” he screams as
the world around him shakes. “They said, well you said, well they
mentioned,” she says as though she can not think. “They said that you
were like a TV constantly flipping between channels,” she finally gets
out. “Do you honestly believe that made any sense or somehow answered a
single question in my head?” He snaps back. “Yep I do because like I
said I am you so, if I think it or say it, it is because you already believe
it. None of this is new. We’ve had this conversation a hundred, a hundred and
fifty times, but it ends the same every time. Think about what you were
thinking about before you woke up,” she touches his face gently tracing
“I think I lost it,” he says to her. “Lost what?” She asks from behind a desk. “The ability to write. The ability to say anything of actual meaning.” He stares into the nothing that surrounds her. “Why do you suppose that is?”
I hope you enjoyed this story… The first one of this cycle… tried to come out strong… never know how anything will turn out until it posts… Chewing On Glass will be presenting a wide variety of stories this cycle… trying to express the wide spectrum of emotions that I am made of… also trying a few things out… trying to get better at all of this… Want to get better at third person perspective… not my go to style… As with trying anything new… there is a lot of trepidation… but don’t worry… things will always be dark… it is where I live after all… can shed your skin over and over… but you can never shed where you are from…
So what the fuck was this even about?… with the dark theme of suicide… trippy ass locations that don’t make any sense… (If you liked this aspect of the story… wait until I release my next short story book… there is a story in there that takes this theme to the max…)… This story was actually not about any of those things… well it was on the surface… the real theme and inspiration for this story was writers block…
This story was about the annoyance of trying to write something over and over for it to only turn out to be shit… the ups and down of how our brains work… feeling trapped yet knowing you have all the tools to escape… wanting to smash your head into a wall to get the ideas out… only to know that it would do nothing in the end… it was a tricky story to write without giving away all the cards… so in the absence of thought and the frustration of writing nothing of actual meaning… I came up with this story…
As usual my favorite character is the woman… I love her care free… give no fucks… this is how it is attitude… writing bad ass… strong women are my favorite characters to write… I love the idea that in this story… for me at least… that there is this duality of her… she is the one in control… yet has no control at all… a pawn and the ruler of the kingdom… a guide and the true representation of it all… “Hell you could have made me a man, but you didn’t”… That line to me… was a turning point in the story where the main character begins to really question everything beyond the surface… there are moments about questioning everything really because that is what the story is all about… questioning ones thoughts and trying to find actual meaning behind nothing at all…
A child I have one I still am Feel everything A mistake I am one Stuck in the past tense I still feel everything A reason Still feel lost In the same place Going nowhere Maybe I should A child I’ve always been Still feeling every feeling An anger I can’t get rid of A hurt I can’t help but be in A mistake Resting inside my head
Hurts like hell
It’s going to hurt either way It will hurt more with you than without The end of everything that I knew The pain feels real even as I feel nothing Catching lightning bugs in a jar Watching the light burn out Bodies left for the others to know their fate A burning corpse on the side of the road All the thoughts left except for one This idea of hurt is all you’ve left me
I’ve been living on borrowed time
Sit down and shut up Flowers on a grave Nothing left to say Honor the dead and let it go away No way could any of this shit ever change
Written from the darkness of my mind… lets talk about that last thought… and break it down…
Sit down and shut up
We have this problem in America… maybe the world… where we get really pissed off about something for… I don’t know… well now it’s over… it is a tool and tactic used by our government and media… be mad but also be mad at this… gets to a point where we are all just mad about everything… and we never address the issue that actually made us mad… caused the problem… so nothing ever changes… people become divided… we war at each other until the next problem shows up… put the issue on the back burner… and crank up the next one… Examples… Gun Control… Abortion… Immigration… (Wrote this one based on gun control in the United States… )
Flowers on a grave Nothing left to say
So we go through this whole I’m pissed and do nothing at all cycle… or do very little… slapping Band Aids on a gushing… rotting… open wound… and in the end this is where we stand on the issue at hand… an impasse.. where we wait for the next one… if you pay attention long enough it becomes a comedy of errors… or if you are an asshole like me… you just laugh and move on with your day… wait did he just said he laughs at the death of others???… yeah… I’m not proud… but…
Honor the dead and let it go away No way could any of this shit ever change
There comes a time where just remembering those we lost and doing nothing at all to prevent future incidences… is pretty funny… the whole cycle leaves you with a lack of empathy for the next set of victims… Honestly how many time are we going to be sad or shocked that someone… anyone… died by being attacked with assault rifles… when we just keep letting assault rifles be sold in the US… How much do we really care about those that we lost?… when we continue on with the same thoughts and behaviors from before… we don’t care…
So yeah I am the asshole for moving on… but put up a fucking mirror… look into the cold eyes staring back at you and wonder what did you do to stop this from ever happening again?… yeah… the point is it doesn’t matter… conditioned by the very people we put our faith in to make this go away… it doesn’t matter… because if did… we would have changed it already…
No one really cares until it happens to them… sad fact of life… and I hope… I pray… I wish… it never happens to any of you… any one at all… because it doesn’t need to happen… Gun Control shouldn’t be a party issue… it should be a life issue that we all should come together to end… because I don’t bleed Democrat or Republican or Independent… no… I bleed blood just like you…
Writing from my humid, fart smelling, and spider infested desk has to be the pinnacle of everything in my life right now. Hammering nails into wood would seem almost more productive at this point. Year fucking zero on a life that has yet to begin. I wonder how many more Ghost reference I can push through my brain for no reason at all. Bored with all the time in the word. Sitting still seems like the only thing to do, but I have a mountain of shit I have to do for free. I guess we all bide our time doing something. Broken part of my brain won’t let me just enjoy life. No I have to be working towards something at a glaciers pace on a budget of zero. Maybe today will be the day I drink enough energy drinks and smoke enough cigarettes to kill myself. Unlikely, but maybe the alcohol will slip me into a comma that I don’t give a fuck about what other people think. It won’t, but I need to submit my thoughts none the less. Don’t get me wrong I love to write, but I could do without all the pressure of being liked. I have yet to find any audience that wants to hold me high above their shoulders and chant my name. Nope instead I am sweating my ass off in my garage plotting away a life time’s worth of work.
It’s hard out here
for a pimp. Working away at nothing is exhausting. I know what I would do with
all of the attention and it isn’t pretty. But to be honest I fear it all the
same. I don’t want to be the center of attention. That is how I have always
been. I don’t want to be someone’s hero. I like being the villain and I just
want to write. I love it. It is all I do and everything else is something I do
to pass the time in between thoughts. Get in line right? Well I already am in
line. Been there for a while waiting for my number to be called. Gone through
all the stages and been left behind. I can feel my heart growing even more
bitter with every day. I’m not there yet, but I can feel it coming around the
corner. Digging out the hole in my heart. The more it hurts the closer you get
right? Being sober is a long walk to the same exact spot. The more I say the
more I want, could use a drink. The depression takes a hold and all I can think
is maybe tomorrow. All the time in the world and I don’t want to do anything,
but ramble on. Ramble on about my failures in a game that makes no sense.
Nothing handed to you is worth anything at all. Anything worth anything won’t just be found. Stumbled upon maybe, but odds are that it won’t. Digging a four foot grave because six feet seems like too much work. An analogy for my whole life. If only I could change something in my brain. Flip a switch and set all this shit to off. Wake me up when any of it matters and yet I know I’d never flip that switch. All this pain, all this effort, all this waiting has to be worth something. Even if it is worth nothing at all in the scheme of things. Life isn’t about anything other than living, but living is the boring part. The day to day drag of nothing at all. The best moments in life are the ones you don’t know you are living until they have already gone by. Remind myself that this isn’t over, but I know I want more. Feel it in my bones. Rattling around in my head to keep going for a dream that makes no sense. Who the fuck cares what anyone has to say when we don’t? Let alone pay for it? Print is nearly dead and I cling to its dying corpse in hopes that it will pay off. Seems very much like something I would do. Get it from my mother. This optimism that everything will work out if you work hard enough. Where the fuck I get this bitterness I do not know.
Threading the line between optimist and pessimist becomes exhausting over time. A fucking wave of emotions that crashes against the rocks of my brain. Will I or won’t I actually give a shit today? And even if I do will I even do anything with it or just sit and suffer? Living life stuck in between everything else is exhausting. Word of the day. Exhausted and bored with every thought. I could, but why should I? Stuck in between here and there and I just want to be there already. Though I have no idea where there is. Happy? Unlikely. Content? Stop trying to fit yourself into a box. Comfortable? In this skin? Highly unlikely. Fighting for something and swinging at nothing. A circle jerk with no pay off. Lost and lonely, and that is where I am today. Doing nothing at all.
If you click the links maybe some Amazon book magic will happen without you having to buy anything… I don’t know I am stupid and desperate… but if you have a Twitter account… you can click that link… and tell me how much life sucks… or how much I suck… I’m open to interpretation… don’t forget to use the hash tag… #BrokenThought….