tonight. like most nights. i wish. like fuck. i were still doing technical support. at least i wouldn't have to look at any one.
unfortunately. i work at the local MHMR facility. FUN. really.
can you tell i've had a bad night? BUT. i have the next two days off. which means. packing like mad. and. searching for bits and pieces of furniture. and. MOVING.
yes. MOVING. alone-ness. QUIET. no rats in the walls. no barking dogs. no blaring, terrible bass.and.drum in the morning while i'm trying like hell to take a hot.relaxing.bath. to.PREPARE.myself.for.work. (i.e. hell. 4th level.)
no more room mate who is obsessed with me. no more cat. no more punk ass kids coming to my apartment at all hours for the houseboy, to do drugs on my couch b/c their too young to do it at home. or too lazy to get a job and get a place of their own.
i like my drugs alone. i like my drink alone. (well. some exceptions. you know.)
i get tired of being the only adult i know. so. i shall tell no one where i am going. or at least very few. keep my munitions in random, hidden places and sit back. breathe. and listen to the dead ones down stairs, in the dead hours when i am almost always awake and ON.MY.OWN.
randomly, i think of jules and johnna and know that this is what they would have approved of. a gal grows tired of idiotic male obsessions- ok. also female, but mostly male- and just wants to live alone. so fuckin' sue me. but The Ladies will be happy and whisper through the house.
louder than here. here there are too many distractions. there. there will be mirrors and altars and shelves and things and the quietness of the cemetery that i inhabit much to much.
i rant.
blame it on the bad day and lack of being stoned. i can't sleep and i'm out of the grand part of my medication. miss prince valium. he keeps me warm. heh. and sleeping. less dreaming. but... tomorrow, perhaps.
so here they are. for the fuck of it. look at them. my beautiful twin, the second Grace gone, the other two waning. look at jules' best friend. my fantastic one. both died the same way. both knew. both missed and loved and mourned and dreamed.
JULES. my twinkie.
johnna. a bitch to rival myself. fantastic to gain the love and adoration of twins.
tell me then that the wrong ones were not taken. this Grace is cracked and cut and mental and strange- why take the loveliest of the bunch? why take the best, when the devils stay behind. argh. enough wallowing.
tell me some thing.
unfortunately. i work at the local MHMR facility. FUN. really.
can you tell i've had a bad night? BUT. i have the next two days off. which means. packing like mad. and. searching for bits and pieces of furniture. and. MOVING.
yes. MOVING. alone-ness. QUIET. no rats in the walls. no barking dogs. no blaring, terrible bass.and.drum in the morning while i'm trying like hell to take a hot.relaxing.bath. to.PREPARE.myself.for.work. (i.e. hell. 4th level.)
no more room mate who is obsessed with me. no more cat. no more punk ass kids coming to my apartment at all hours for the houseboy, to do drugs on my couch b/c their too young to do it at home. or too lazy to get a job and get a place of their own.
i like my drugs alone. i like my drink alone. (well. some exceptions. you know.)
i get tired of being the only adult i know. so. i shall tell no one where i am going. or at least very few. keep my munitions in random, hidden places and sit back. breathe. and listen to the dead ones down stairs, in the dead hours when i am almost always awake and ON.MY.OWN.
randomly, i think of jules and johnna and know that this is what they would have approved of. a gal grows tired of idiotic male obsessions- ok. also female, but mostly male- and just wants to live alone. so fuckin' sue me. but The Ladies will be happy and whisper through the house.
louder than here. here there are too many distractions. there. there will be mirrors and altars and shelves and things and the quietness of the cemetery that i inhabit much to much.
i rant.
blame it on the bad day and lack of being stoned. i can't sleep and i'm out of the grand part of my medication. miss prince valium. he keeps me warm. heh. and sleeping. less dreaming. but... tomorrow, perhaps.
so here they are. for the fuck of it. look at them. my beautiful twin, the second Grace gone, the other two waning. look at jules' best friend. my fantastic one. both died the same way. both knew. both missed and loved and mourned and dreamed.
JULES. my twinkie.
johnna. a bitch to rival myself. fantastic to gain the love and adoration of twins.
tell me then that the wrong ones were not taken. this Grace is cracked and cut and mental and strange- why take the loveliest of the bunch? why take the best, when the devils stay behind. argh. enough wallowing.
tell me some thing.
I hope you dont do what he did, it hurts so many more than just you it hurts every one around you, you may not think any one loves you but im sure that there is.
[Edited on Mar 24, 2005 11:47PM]