2004-12-16 - 1:57 a.m.
have you missed me in my absence? have you noticed my death? will you notice my resurrection?
i'm not making promises anymore. not that i ever did. i'm standing in the shallow end, keeping my eyes on the land. making sure i can feel the bottom.
where am i now? i'm not lost, but i haven't been found, either. i'm stuck somewhere in between living and dying and i can't pick between the two. i sold my soul to a mighty corporation and it's fighting with the media to keep it that way.
the cold doesn't make me want to quit bad habits, it makes me fight harder to be bad. i try hard not to care, but that makes me care more. i try hard not to think, but that's all i know how to do and so i do it best - better than you. i don't lie awake at night anymore, i sleep it all off. all away. but i don't wake up until the day is half over if i can help it. then i only have half of the day to drink away. or smoke away. or both.
don't let anybody else in, don't let anybody back in, don't let anybody out. genuinely smile out of here, a false smile inside. some of this stuff can only make sense to me.
routine is ingrained inside of my mind and striving for more wouldn't work. i tried. i got shot down. and only this afternoon. not all routine is bad, though. saturday night routines are not. drinking until i move involuntarily, drinking until i have to have help to the bathroom. the liquor trickles down my insides, coating my innerworkings like a warm blanket and i stay warm until sunday morning, when the sun shines through the blinds and blinds me. giving me the gift of a headache and the knowledge that i've wasted money and have nothing to show for it except for burns or scratches or lost money because i call in sick to work.
if i were a computer, i would buy more space to hold all of my hatred. i would fill myself with music and an antivirus program would be installed. i would uninstall bad memories, save the good ones. i would upload love from his hard drive to keep my motherboard from crashing. you could hold my mouse in my hand and i would be much more appealing with all of my flash animations and bleeps and bloops. with my qwerty keyboard.
i live in a house with a killbot and a jason and our cat, zombie. we have a dishwasher. we play mario party by the fire and we touch asses when we sleep at night. not all of us - i only touch one ass these days. our small family works out well. things aren't bad, really. not like i make them out to be. but i still have to fight off the urge to run away. you might say i'm a professional. or at least not a beginner anymore.
it's time to smoke in the garage by the light of the..light.
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