hansel

The big post is still on the way. Here's some stop-gap confessionalism to help me along..

I can't shake it. Showers won't wash it off. Whiskey won't burn it away. I'm stuck right where I am. Running in place. I can hear the voices of people around me, they're like echoes and they move farther away. Contract. Expand. Contract. Desist.

I'm guilty. Today has been about going through the motions. It's hard remembering to smile for the pictures, reflect an image of normalcy for passerby's. It's tedious today, impossible. I've worn my "ask me what's wrong with me" face into oblivion. I want to shove peoples own shit back in their mouths. You don't care. There's nothing to see here. Go back to your business, or, better yet, go fuck yourself.

I need a new job, a new face, a new back story. Any kind of change. I can't be myself anymore. I'm already different.