snow

in the deep
i keep telling myself that i quit because i wanted a better life. i wanted to remain anonymous. i hate the fake. i was tired of making other people money. constantly feeling used. i never asked for it. but putting on the red lipstick and walking out to them...i melt.
then...why do i feel regret. why do i see pictures of tour and start crying. why do i miss it so much. why can't i leave my apartment for two weeks. i lose track of days and bottles of red wine.
i bring it to myself in bed every single morning. a big plate of torture, one egg, and five pieces of bacon. do i like it? do i get off on hurting myself. no. yes.
there is more. there will always be more. i should have gone on tour...but i would still be torturing myself...often for no reason. two. i split in two. snow. andrea. snow. andrea. who else...
i love alcohol. i love pills. i love sitting on the kitchen floor with blood running down my arms. i do. i really do. this is who i am. i fell in love with someone i can't have. i'm shy. i'm lonely. i like cracker-barrel. i love the crowd. i love the attention....until i realize that they are looking at me. everybody wants you, but i hear them hating me. neverending conflicts....the stories i make up in my head.
i miss having friends. i miss them. cuddling. crying. laughing.
hairline fracture of the radius. i hit the wall. you were just in the way...or maybe i was in your way.
my birthday.

i walk outside. everyday i pick flowers. i am making more money than i could ever need. my dog wakes me up by noon. i still get hit on...even if they are 18. people love me here, even if i can't see it. chicken bbq. pee wee's big adventure on dvd. highly passive-agressive. i tend to be the masochist.
yeah fuck it.