#21

Monday, December 3, 2012

December fog creeps in
And settles over everything
Enveloping the landscape and obscuring it from view
My depression does the same
(a re-used metaphor - so uncreative)
Working its way into the deepest crevices of my mind
I try to displace it with smoke
Try to fill in the space with various poisons
Try to ignore the fact that it's there altogether
Anything to keep me from wallowing in it
But these measures are all so temporary
So very fleeting
Because eventually I always end up back here
Stumbling blind through the fog
Searching for a light that won't go out
A mixed metaphor, perhaps
But why not confuse my writing
When it fits so comfortably with the rest of my life?

======

It's so hard to be comfortable on my own
When everything reminds me of you
Music, books, restaurants
This entire city itself
Every street we've driven is mapped out in my memory
I need only to glance at an intersection we've travelled through
And dozens of memories come rushing forth of every conversation we've had there
Along with the emotions attached to them
I still remember where we were when you told me you were having one of the best nights of your life
Even though all we did was drive around, get high, and listen to music
And I still remember how happy and content that made me feel
What happened to us?
To me?

#20

Monday, September 3, 2012

"I wish I had more friends," she said, and the second thing I thought was, "I don't."

#19

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Almost one week
And the contentment has turned
Slowly but steadily
Into anxiety and fear
Day by day
I can feel the doubt and the dark thoughts
Trying to force their way forward again
Despite my best attempts
To ignore
To rationalize
To look on the bright side
        (as if there is one -
        because like the Sacred Chao
        every bright side has a dark side as well
        and vice versa)
To numb
It seems like nothing will work
So terrified that an attempted mistake
Will ruin the best part of my life
A mistake I've wanted to happen for more than three years
But now, clearly, a mistake all the same

...and a mistake I'm afraid I'd only hesitate briefly
Before making again

#18

Monday, June 18, 2012

This one actually has a title


3:45pm

Day-drinking vodka since 11am
And I actually feel good on my own, for once
Emotions fuzzy, mind clear
Even though I know I'd sound like a simpleton if I spoke right now
But that doesn't matter
If I could feel like this forever, I would
Listening to weird prog rock in my bedroom...
I love my friends and family
But if I was locked forever, right here, right now
In this mindset
I wouldn't leave
Because after weeks of feeling disconnected and awful
(due to various chemicals, both internal and external)
I finally feel disconnected and good

#17

Saturday, June 9, 2012

Watching you
As you fawn over him
As he returns your advances
But for different reasons than you think
...or so he tells me

And I believe him
Even though I don't know if I do

And Christ, I hope it's true
Even if it hurts you
(and me, in a way)
I hope it's true

======

Were we happier six months ago?
If we were
Do we have something to do with the change?

...I worry that it's just me

#16

Monday, April 30, 2012

I'm in almost the exact same place I was two years ago
Same job, same room, same drugs
Just a little more jaded
And a little less caring


Sunday, May 13, 2012

Another Sunday in my room
Disconnected
Miles from everywhere
I don't know what to do with myself when you're not around
And there's no promise you'll come over today
I'm scared I've grown dependent on you
And I'm scared that will push you away
...and a little scared that it won't
I can feel the desire to self-destruct rising
Because I know I'll never get what I want
And sometimes I'd rather take the easy way out
Especially when you're not here
I'm so terrified you feel something for him
And if you do...
I don't know.


Saturday, May 19, 2012

When I finally sleep
And awake the next day
I will only remember the nightmares
And the dreams of you
Sometimes I can't tell the difference


Wednesday, June 6, 2012

First dry day in God knows when
Alone with my thoughts
Without any way to turn them off
Scraping black powder from ceramic tubes
Then mixing it with tobacco and herbs
Hoping I have enough to numb my mind
At least until sleep comes
Where I know you'll be

#15

c. May 2005

Late nights turn into early mornings, and sometimes I lay there and toss and turn. Sometimes I just sit and stare, wondering why I can't cry and wishing I could, like that day I drove in the rain, the window down, cold and tired, the salt of my tears mixing with the rain running down my face. There are things I want to say but no words to say them with, but I need to try, need to do something to shake this feeling I have grown to love. I think back to parties, rooms full of people, yet I was there only to see her. And when she left, I left and drove for hours, not in any direction, just driving and letting the white lines blur, trying to find meaning in the darkness and the silence, a reason for these emotions finally coming out after two years of suppression. Driving on those dimly lit back roads with nothing but the trees and the asphalt and the sky and myself, wishing so badly that she was in the seat next to me, because I know her presence would make everything all right. I asked her today if she was busy, weeks of fear and paranoia and apprehension released with one unsure sentence, and she said she was as she walked away blushing, leaving me to wonder what would happen next. Only weeks away from summer, and then another year, and then I will never see her again, and goddamnit all, time just moves so fast, running ahead to take her away from me, and then what will I do? God, please, I know I don't deserve anything, but please help me. The ache is so great and I just want to get rid of it. I tell myself I don't care and build up complex logic barriers to block out all feeling, only to have them broken by her laugh or a passing glance at her face that manifests into a sharp burst of pain that leaves my heart bleeding out into the emptiness between us in a desperate attempt to relieve this hurt by reaching out to her and failing miserably because now that the wall is broken I can only focus on my longing and nothing else. All logic has left and been replaced by all the love I have for her, which is all the love I have, so I am left numb and apathetic about everything except her, and if she knew that she would push me away just like before, and so she can't know, but how am I supposed to reach out if she can't know, and now she has to know and I've succeeded only in undoing that at which I worked so hard to repair. And yet my love is as strong as ever and that has to mean something. And I have let my guard down and now I know that she is what I need, but she doesn't need me, she doesn't even see me for what I am now, and if she could, would it even matter, or would she continue to deny me her thoughts and her hopes and her fears and to reject all that I really have to offer her - a love that is not even my own.


Sunday, March 25, 2012

Mixtapes made and never given
Unable to read your kind words because I know they're true
And that makes it difficult to hate you the way I want to
I never wanted to be here

#14

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

My faith was a very well-defined thing, very dogmatic. I based my entire life and my outlook on it. It gave me a purpose. So when it was truly shaken for the first time, it was pretty traumatizing. Once part of it stopped making sense, the entire thing started to fall apart. The thing with Tara was hard because up until that point, God had always been there for me. I felt comfort when I prayed, and even if things didn't instantly change, I always felt better believing in and talking to God. Something would always happen. So after two months of crying out to God every day, begging him to at least give me a sign that he was there or to give me some sort of hope that things would get better, I found myself doubting his existence. My faith had always been a very personal, emotional thing. I could argue intellectually for it, but my belief in God had always been founded in emotion rather than fact. If somebody did make an argument against God that I found myself unable to totally refute, it still wouldn't shake my faith because my faith wasn't based on an intellectual understanding of God - it was based on how I felt about him and the relationship I believed I had with him. So when I found it difficult to emotionally invest in God, everything else started to fall apart. Once the emotional base was gone, I started to doubt the rational reasons I had for my faith. I started reading books on theology and talking to my youth pastors, even joined a Bible study in an attempt to understand God and have him make sense in my head, hoping that maybe if I could believe in God intellectually, somehow the emotional part would come back. Weirdly enough, the more I read and talked and thought about it, the less I believed. The Bible study in particular was detrimental to my faith. It was led by a guy who was finishing a degree at Bethel and wanted to plant churches (and, oddly, happened to play guitar in this Christian rap-rock band I was into a few years prior), so dude knew his shit. And when I would ask about stuff that bothered me in the text (we were reading through Luke), his answers either didn't make sense, seemed contradictory, or made God seem like kind of a shitty dude. Eventually the study broke up, and while I continued to go to church most weeks and tried to pray with some regularity, it just didn't feel the same. Not only was the emotional part no longer present, but the intellectual part was starting to rapidly crumble. I started thinking about changing to another religion, and looked into Buddhism for a while. There were things I definitely identified with - lots of the zen stuff, and the ideas about life being about finding the balance between two extremes - but the spiritual aspects fell short. Shortly after that, I considered atheism/agnosticism and decided to listen to God is not Great by Christopher Hitchens at work one day. That book would end up being the thing that finally shattered what little scraps of faith I still had. The way Hitchens systematically went through and undermined most of the historical and intellectual aspects of any sort of faith in the supernatural blew my brain wide open and forced me to change my mind about my reasons for believing in God. So with the emotional part already gone and then the intellectual part defeated, I found myself completely unable to believe in God - which fucking hurt. I was depressed about it for a while. But eventually I learned to rely on myself, to be okay with life being totally meaningless. And there's actually a sense of comfort and freedom that come with that, sometimes. Sometimes it sucks, but sometimes it's good, too. There are definitely times I still want to believe in God, and there were a couple periods where I even tried giving God another chance (usually when I'd been listening to a lot of mewithoutYou). I don't know if my desire to believe in God ever fully goes away or not. I think about faith and religion a lot, at the very least; maybe even on a daily basis. But the intellectual block in my head keeps me from ever fully committing. I can't force myself into faith just because I want to believe, just like I can't force myself to believe in anything else I don't think is real. There's also stuff in the Bible that makes me not want to believe in God even if he is real - shit against women and gay people are two big ones, as well as a lot of the hyperviolence and overreacting that goes on in the Old Testament. It also seems that Calvinism is probably true, and I don't buy that at all. I don't know how I'm free if everything is preordained - but then I also have trouble believing that God doesn't know what is going to happen at every second throughout history, so I don't know. I find some of the paradoxes wonderful and beautiful, but I can't wrap my head around that one. There's stuff about the sins of the father being passed on for generations, which I also think is total bullshit. And while I could just take the parts I like and leave the rest, that feels wrong, probably because my faith was so well-defined earlier in my life. It feels like I'm cheating somehow. My attitude is pretty all-or-nothing when it comes to God. That's also the reason I have trouble believing in something amorphous and ill-defined. If there aren't rules to follow, I don't see the point, I guess, other than comfort... and it's difficult for me to believe that I was created by something that has no expectations of me. I'll admit that there are selfish reasons for it, too. I think if I start believing again, I'll probably have to stop taking drugs and swearing and a whole host of other things. I'll have to start going to church regularly, and if I don't tithe I'll feel guilty for it. And yet... I don't know, if I was truly able to believe again, giving up all that shit would probably be worth it. So yeah, I don't know. That's a pretty good summation of my faith and my feelings about God, I guess.


It was the emotional that kept me believing and it is the rational that keeps me from believing.


Sunday, February 26, 2012

Basement-dwelling
On a shitty day
At the end of a strange weekend
In the middle of... what?
Nothingness
Peppered with meaningless events
Points of something surrounded by void
The ones with you burn brighter
But sometimes they sting my eyes
Though usually (unfortunately) not enough to make me cry
I like to think I'm at my best when I don't feel
But that's only because numbness is better
Than acknowledging the constant emptiness in my chest
I wish I knew how to make it go away
Until then, I'll fill it with another drink
Another drug
Another night spent with you
(Though never in the way I want)
Every measure simultaneously filling and deepening the abscess
Some days I can't wait until it takes me over

#13

Monday, January 23, 2012

A series of text documents written over the course of about an hour while under the influence of alcohol, LSA, and marijuana.

justafriend.txt
I've never seen you as 'just a friend'.

Staring at that sentence,
I don't know if it's true
Or if I want it to be true

You take that last bit any way you like.

Slipping over myself,
Trying to type you a love letter I know will never work
Empty stomach
Full head
Typewriter mistakes
But not that one
Haha

Things I won't remember,
even upon re-reading this

inflections i never meant
and ones i meant all the while
trying to hide themselves behind bullshit prose
the way you do
you motherfucker

I never meant that
And I hope i never do

Everything is intentional

Except the mistakes my fingers make
The forgotten mistakes my fingers make
The ones you barely remember now

Tasting lamb on an empty stomach full of vomit
That doesn't mean anything
Now or ever
Now or never

Lysergic

Takes longer to hit
Much longer
Much, much longer

This will all make sense

No.

Sleep?

-------

drugs.txt
I swear on my life I've been high this whole time
Taking drugs and never knowing
Leaving behind sheets of nothing
Scraps of thought in a digital wasteland
So cliche on purpose
I wish

-------

hip.txt
I don't know what separates thought from thought
Christ, I'm so hip

Punch myself in the dick just for thinking that
Much less writing it
And saving it to my hard drive forever

Along with this pseudo-self-deprecating bullshit


Fuck, I really am the worst


Typing this bullshit prose for no reason
Making sure it's perfectly spaced
Paragraphed
Uncomfortably written
Just like the asshole I want to be
Especially by writing this

-------

as.txt
Pure thought
I think I really am tripping
Fucking took long enough

-------

stoppedthere.txt
I think I'm tripping
Purest form of thought?
I guess
Whatever
I tried
But my guts hurt so bad now
Nothing's worth it
Nothing

-------

funny.txt
I have to poop so bad
It really is all just shit
Haha
I wish this was funny

-------

mom.txt
still trying to write
you motherfucker
none of this is interesting
your brain
your bullshit attempts at writing
it all springs out of control
your thoughts
everything

fuckfuckfuickucigujajjasjajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajajjajaajjsjddddddddddddd'
aasfas

FFFFFFFUCK

fuck.

this always makes sense at the time
it's not art and you know it
even as you try
you won't remember this
and it's definitely for the best
alone forever
even with your cats
let's see if work happens

sorry mom

-------

asddddd.txt
so cold
so very, very cold
moreso than outside
i hate my room

-------

why.txt
drinking yourself into oblivion
once again
you stupid fuck
drugs don't work
you're high as shit right now
and drugs don't work
they don't numb the pain you stupid fuck you stupid fuck you stupid fuck
why are you in so much pain?
why are you in so much pain?
why?
why why why?

-------

idiot.txt
still flashing back to shit that happened before
so unoriginal
you fucking wallflower
you idiot

-------

addict.txt
there is never a reason good enough for your drug use
nor a reason pure enough
that's it
fucking knock it off
...or realize it and use that knowledge
you fucking addict

-------

hey guy.txt
you don't have to be a cock about sobriety, you know

-------

writing.txt
getting some good writing done
aren't you?
you faggot

-------

drugs2.txt
drugs are supposed to be fun, right?
psychedelics, even?
maybe i'm not high for the right reasons
but i don't even know if that matters anymore

maybe drugs won't save us

-------

guy.txt
i was already thinking about somehow compiling a book of your poetry to give to you on valentine's day. i know it's probably sad that i was thinking of that before i even knew how you felt about me (especially given the circumstances now), but what other guy would have done that for yoU?

#12

Thursday, February 16, 2012

Half-remembered conversations (confessions)
Obscured by smoke and liquid toxins
Conveniently and tragically holding on to the parts that give me hope
Twisting your words to fit what I want
(both good and bad)
And to put the blame on you

I'd like to set fire to my memories
Forget it ever happened
Because as much as I needed it to happen at the time
It's all I've been able to think about since
And that never ends well