#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?