Any time that I want to make myself feel crazy, i can go back and read things written back and forth and think about where it went wrong. Yin and yang is a pile of shit with a cherry on top. I want too much.
People sometimes express surprise that I don't have a million dollars for being so clever. They become more surprised when I say i don't want money, i just want to be happy. Happiness may not be an option, so perhaps I should just settle for the money. I want too much.
I talked to my old lady friend the other day about how i had thought my prayers had been answered, but I thought wrong. She just wondered what made me think my prayers had been answered. I guess I can live with that. I should be grateful for all the shit I've escaped and not had to suffer through, all the times I've regained consciousness and been surprised I'm still alive and all the times i've gotten just what i needed when I needed it. All i have is this sack of skin and bones I drag around and even that is on loan. Death (mine) doesn't concern me anymore. That's not true, I think about killing myself a lot. But not suicide. Nothing so mundane. I don't think it could get so bad that I would anymore unless I was pulling some kind of slick obi-won-kenobi move for the greater good. I want to kill everything phoney about myself. Everything fake everything weak everything about me.every needy little thing. I want to die under the teacher's fists. Reborn as I was before.
I wonder about my perception of events. Maybe I've slowly changed in ways that I haven't noticed. Maybe my denial is so thick you can cut it with a knife. I don't know what else to do except soldier on and fix things as I go. I have no idea if I'm making progress or just going in circles. I have seen this territory before, maybe i'm chasing huffa-lumps.
My playing is suffering and it makes me want to cut off my hands.
I see I have a new testimonial. I don't know why people think these things about me. Still it's nice. Old pictures. Why am i rooting around in my past? I am surrounded by hungry ghosts but i won't let them leave. Come take a bite, i'm pickeling my liver for you. Come take another piece of my heart. Tear off chunks of my spirt. It just grows back. Except for the scar tissue, but that's only because I pick at it.
People sometimes express surprise that I don't have a million dollars for being so clever. They become more surprised when I say i don't want money, i just want to be happy. Happiness may not be an option, so perhaps I should just settle for the money. I want too much.
I talked to my old lady friend the other day about how i had thought my prayers had been answered, but I thought wrong. She just wondered what made me think my prayers had been answered. I guess I can live with that. I should be grateful for all the shit I've escaped and not had to suffer through, all the times I've regained consciousness and been surprised I'm still alive and all the times i've gotten just what i needed when I needed it. All i have is this sack of skin and bones I drag around and even that is on loan. Death (mine) doesn't concern me anymore. That's not true, I think about killing myself a lot. But not suicide. Nothing so mundane. I don't think it could get so bad that I would anymore unless I was pulling some kind of slick obi-won-kenobi move for the greater good. I want to kill everything phoney about myself. Everything fake everything weak everything about me.every needy little thing. I want to die under the teacher's fists. Reborn as I was before.
I wonder about my perception of events. Maybe I've slowly changed in ways that I haven't noticed. Maybe my denial is so thick you can cut it with a knife. I don't know what else to do except soldier on and fix things as I go. I have no idea if I'm making progress or just going in circles. I have seen this territory before, maybe i'm chasing huffa-lumps.
My playing is suffering and it makes me want to cut off my hands.
I see I have a new testimonial. I don't know why people think these things about me. Still it's nice. Old pictures. Why am i rooting around in my past? I am surrounded by hungry ghosts but i won't let them leave. Come take a bite, i'm pickeling my liver for you. Come take another piece of my heart. Tear off chunks of my spirt. It just grows back. Except for the scar tissue, but that's only because I pick at it.
VIEW 16 of 16 COMMENTS
I think they may have it at that Hawaiian restaurant (Bamboo Grove on SW Carolina), but I'm not sure.
I know, I think I may have to make a take-out order and take some time away from my work to eat sushi
No need to make it even... you won them fair and square
Yeah, about the guy, I would probably still fuck him, but I'm just too scared that he'll get all dominant on me and force shit on me
But that chick with the shit panties... now that's interesting stuff!