Monday, January 21, 2008

Smells Like Poop

the feeling is monotone, monochrome like black and white tv back in those days.
mute like chaplin, facial expressions denote nothing. the context of everyday happenings are unrelated and insignificant. bubbles burst once in a while right? wrong. they burst all the time. the odd few might stray up a bit higher than the rest, fly into the sky like its the limit. but what really is? what's the limit? who sets the bar of what's the highest level to a certain credential. fuck it. son of bitches don't appreciate the gift, only like receiving, never like to give or ever feel like giving. or they give but they take it back? this is dark and deep, my thoughts you may not comprehend. but it's not my fault. i may not want you to understand. if you do, it may be right, it may be wrong. i've been cussing like a street bitch the whole 20 days of 2008. cursing at every damn thing like swearing is my only ability, the only words available in my vocabulary. maybe i started it off on a wrong note. the wrong foot. the wrong mood. the wrong road. nothing is going great at the moment. a mix of good and happy, bad and sad. depression on the verge, valium helping induce sleep. my body's tired and aching. i need the stress release, the unwind, the wind, the sun, the sand. every muscle contracts like it's working against its will. forcing myself to move when all i want to do is curl up under layers and layers of heavy covers, cower, and curled up like a hibernating bear not wanting to wake up. every day waking up is an effort. every day the moment i wake up and the pain is too hard to bear. too much. make it stop. make it stop. make it stop. tear the pain out of my heart, my lungs screaming for air, gasping, chest heaving, shoulders shaking. make it stop. make it stop. i have no more faith. perhaps only a flicker, a feeble attempt at trying to stay lit. but i stay lit. that little flicker is all i need. right? falling into a deep sleep when all the pain goes away. like numbness. i don't feel a thing. i don't want to feel a thing. make it stop. make it stop. distraction works only for a fraction of a second. distraction itself is distracting, it doesn't take it away. it only makes you pretend it's gone. please. make it stop. make it stop feeling. make it not feel a thing. make it not feel pain. make it stop hurting. enough. enough. i've had enough.