cahrizz

as i listen to the cure and become overwhelmed by thoughts and ideas not so pretty and so austere it is dreadful to not sit awhile in the maginificant beauty of them.....

i can't restrain myself, can't keep the past locked up and now that i have i forgot who i was and what i'm suppossed to be doing in tis world. the winter night blurs so cleary in this cold desolate quietude i only resisted going to the strip club and pressing my body against naked flesh because when i woke up today i had not the slightest idea that just befire going out i would be so repulsed by my reflection. i have not the slightest clue to what i could have been thinking when i shaved my head again. growing hair was like growing a soul and having shaved it all off was like stepping out into this artic winter with no clues to stay the night expect warmth. as far from love as i can be i have learned to trust nobody. and that damned reflection playing like the chords of a familiar refrain and then a sudden seemingly insignificant event could trigger such a existential crisis; could be i'm just losing it. maybe that's why i feel like laughing and behaving wrongly in the worst possible times but i'm so afraid of getting locked up i keep moving like a shark who won't ever sleep without swimming i escape the nightmares of my generation by refusing to watch the news to buy a tabloid to go to sleep or watch the tranquil infomercials that promise everything to someone up that watching television can't get. so what is it i ask you i should be doing now that i forgot to mention that it was an automatic teller that brought about this tyerible birth and wanting to have naked perfumed flesh press against mine and wink and promise me further into dostrust because maybe she wants me but doesn't want to lose a good customer after all.

so i went to take my usual three hundred out of the teller. nothing big or new in my mode of existence. about to hit up dinner(which ended up being well, we'll get there eventually), and the machine says insufficent funds. i try a smaller amount the same thing. i try a rinkie-dinkie amount and presto i got forty bones. no problem for dinner but there was the bookstore afterwards right? and as any night the potential for anything and this is limiting my choices which could be a positive thing depending on how you look at things or this could be negative becausede tonight the planets are alligning just so and she's heading to the bookstore with the same book in mind and in her tunnel vision in shyness as we pass eachother and we both barely audibly in those sweet tones excuse ourselves circle back without looking in either direction , catch the author's name on the book spine and reach for it at the same moment and just then our hands touch and there's sparks. we look up fearful, expecting smiles bursting free like the sun after a long winter and so begins a romance.

but alas, i haven't any money to continue the night my car's in another state and this being alaska makes it pretty fucking difficult to travel without the expense of a cab and if she's got a car then i'm too dependent and slightly uncomfortable with her taking care of things because this neeeds to feel as efortless as riding a ferriswheel locked in seated next to one another taking in eachothers' eyes and the moon when bashfulness casts a looking away a breaking eye contact moment. a BIG BRIGHT FULL ONE!

but here i am in this ice over world cold wondering the million thoughts a second of what could have possibly happened to my money: internet internet internet, someone stole my money over the internet. it was a on-line casino wanting their money back. it was revenge plotted on by almost cuckcolded sort of culckolded lover of a girl who's heart i stole however briefly finally quenched???? what oh what could it have been and then i just think of being poor again and i figure i need to drink so i don't feel drink because i can't get no blow drink because what i really need is a syringe and whole load of herione or at the very least a large quantity of some great opium to take me away from this digusting world where the bank says tough, where the authorities say tough where responsiblity rests squarely on my shoulders and the world and the universe do not care one fucking bit so harshly i need to scream into a silent night to inflict a wound on the universe for its indifference.
and thus we come full circle to the point that led to points to this wonderful glow of medications for pyschocic and depression and dreams of the ultimate cure for pain and alcochol running rampant in me.

and i remember i no longer believe in love. love is the grown up version of santa claus also peratrated by movies where everything ends up in its right place.........

hope you enjoyed chris