and to a certain special someone... you the best I never had...
sweet dreams...
Raw Sugar - J. Key
Tuesday blog
JANUARY 15, 2008 @ 11:24 PM
that's jenny. my ex-girlfriend. she tried to kill herself last week. i just found out.
this was attempt #5. she almost succeeded this time. really it's been close the last few times.
i'm really sad. she's lost, and schizotypal. she listens to no one, and i can't go see her, for all kinds of reasons.
her mom is a fucking mess. really they're like family to me. long after jenny broke up with me, and my family had all but disowned me, lesa(her mom), took me in, and gave me a place to be 'till i got on my feet. i had been sleeping in a car for a month, at a bridge outside of town.
i had taken care of jenny and her younger brother tim(when we were seeing each other), when lesa tried to kill herself. we came home from stargazing, and there was blood fucking everywhere. she was sitting in the living room doing that psycho-rock that people do when they can't get comfortable in their own skin.
we've been through a lot together, all of us. jason, jennies older brother was my best friend for a long, long time, after we had split.
her brothers can't be bothered with it anymore, which i understand. at some point, you have to realize that there's no more fighting it. it's going to happen. she's going to succeed one of these times. this one being #2 in two months, means it's probably going to happen real soon. she's strung out, and has no plans of getting better.
i don't know. sorry. no one here really knows me, and that's kind of a lot, but if i aired any of that anywhere else, someone that knows us all would have had a fucking fit. not about me saying it, but...
i don't know, i guess i just had to write it down somewhere.
she's beautiful, and intelligent, she's cool, and has good taste in almost everything. i miss her a lot.
i guess i just wanted someone else to see her. to care, or something.
no pity parties. i just needed to vent. to share. her sadness and her face. my sadness, and my love.
somewhere it might be looked upon with grace.
after all, this is suicide girls.
my second real girlfriend/extended family member, killed herself last week. she built her own gallows.
my father has a blood clot in his leg. this is #3.
mom is a survivor, she can't be kept down, even though she barely gets out of bed.
the girl i was seeing, asked if she could keep a toothbrush at my house, the day she disappeared. she called me three weeks later, to tell me she had a boyfriend, and that he was moving into my building.
i am seeing someone else. our lives and histories are as full of sadness and razor wire as one another. our glasses are half full, but we are dehydrated and dying of thirst. it is comforting to not feel so alone, even though i am well aware of the fact that no matter how many people we surround ourselves with, we will spend the majority of this journey, completely and exhaustively alone, in our own little worlds, speaking only to ourselves and our ghosts, in languages only we ourselves understand.
i haven't seen mr. pants in months, and have no connection that can tell me how he is, or talk that ridiculous bitch, into letting me see him.
i've been off all my meds for over a month. it is terrible, and a terribly long story.
i'm a week, and $1000+ from being homeless,
i am coated in landmarks, in the form of scars bearing ink.
they are the only things i have left, that no one can take from me without killing me.
i am an unemployed felon, tied to the streets by a disenfranchisement i don't know if i would reconstitute, if i even ever really considered it. bound by the sirens at the tops of these trees, and the bottoms of these bottles, as are the would be customers.
in spite of, and quite possibly as a result of, all of that...
i am.
WOW - Future Ghosts(Tennis Remix)
it's funny, that a place i came to look at naked women would bear the weight of the only place i've felt safe(-ish), actually saying what's happening up there. i've got another blog, but i digress from the point...
most of the people i really cared about here, are all but disappeared, some with brief scattered "updates", some with nothing but pictures remaining, and, much'as i'm a man, i'm also a connoisseur, and the best pictures i've seen, of any of the beautiful creatures that grace us with the majesty of their birthday suit, are not in fact, the nudes, but the ones, where, shit is so real, you can't help but pause, whether it was a smile, or the tears, that hat that makes her feel like queen shit of fuck mountain, that blouse that made that one night perfect, the company, a sparkle from the corner of an eye you'd die to be able to gaze into, and so you do...
for those of you who don't know me very well, this may be a good one to digest.
i'm still as of yet barely functioning as a human being. it's been a year since she left me officially, screaming it relentlessly in my ear, over the phone, when she had just seen me 15 minutes prior. there's no such thing as an innocent man, and if there was, i wouldn't be one of them, let it be told on the mountains, the quantity and quality of my failures, they are many and they are rich...
i'm starting to be okay with that. more the kind of situation where you're forced to be around people or things that rubbed you wrong from day one, even if you weren't going to find more reasons to loathe them, until it's been so long you've just gotten used to them being around, than an actual passing of self-hate, or the growing of self love.
that said, i 'm well aware of how amazing and rare and beautiful a human being i am, let alone a man. i could die today and know i've already done a lifetimes work, in a quarter of the time, from scratch, with no ingredients but hard knocks,guts and tears. i did it like it was what i was born for, sacrifice, for something greater that never bothered to show up.
i've been a fortunate man, in that, i've not only bedded not a small number of really incredible, intelligent, interesting, creative, strong, beautiful women...
i loved them. with every molecule of this body i live in, and from all of the ones before. i still love them, all. the kicks to the bruises are that, even the ones that didn't have to learn to hate me to make it easier on themselves, i never get to see, the "boyfriend" is always intimidated, there's always still chemistry, and since many of them have families, children and husbands now, it's 'prolly for the best that i just fade away. from them anyway,
that does however, bring me conveniently to my next point...
every single one of them, took a piece so large when they left, they might as well all have been my life partners. i can still differentiate each particular smell, when their ghosts get to moving around in my chest. i can still see their own particular breed of shine... like the pregnant glow, but more subtle, which only serves to make it more important, to give my undivided attention to the details, when i am haunted, which consequently, i always am. my heart is built like Ani DiFranco's cunt, and if you ever felt it, there isn't a vulgar enough description, for perpetually open wounds, that stretch deep space into places that cannot possibly exist inside such small bodies, but they do.
like, i haven't eaten a whole meal(grossly understated), in over a year, haven't been able to intake any amount of anything good for me large enough to sustain what i dare to call a life, but yet i can't seem to die. starting in january, i probably O.D.d once every two days, trying to shake the shakes, and the screaming empty places in me where home, and family used to be, where there once sat open, a place of great warmth and comfort, i've been compared to heroin, more than once, by more than a couple of souls who's words hold weight to this day, not that i believe a syllable...
leading me directly into, quite possibly, the most painfully valuable, and costly lesson i've ever learned.
"do not, under any circumstances, ask a question, that you know you don't want the answer to. even if all of the possible answers haunt you for all of eternity, the answer, is always worst case scenario, and there will never be a solution to a problem you cannot undo. you cannot unhear, or unsee, what you have seen and heard. you cannot, unbreak a heart."
they say that time heals all wounds, which is pretty to say, even though it's 'bout the last fucking thing you want to hear, when every second of your life is broken into millionths, and you do nothing but relive the hardest of them, on top of the everyday, duldrum bullshit that we have forced each other as humans, into, quite literally, every, day. time is the enemy always, especially if you're wounded. those people don't know what the fuck they're talking about. if you can still pretend that to be true, i bid you godspeed, that you may hold on to your blanky as long as possible, if you never have to open your eyes, don't. the most beautiful sunsets, humans, and drugs in the the world can't wash out all of the incest, the violence, the hatred, the complete lack of any sort of logical behaviour, out of a single human being, given all that we know. glorified monkeys, and that's when we're at our best.
i want to love people, or i did...
point is is'that i don't. or, i love them so much, that i hate them for not living up to their potential, so that maybe, someday, we could all actually just, be, ourselves. i hate that i'm ashamed, to be human, embarrassed, disenfranchised, even if it weren't for the intentional disenfranchisement of poor, sad people, who use poor judgment, and do sad things, because there are no other realities, than the one you're currently living in... of course, there are, but then this whole cohesion thing i'm already stretching dangerously thin, would be at the mercy of gods like sumo on rice paper. anyhow...
i was driving late last night, or early this morning, depending on your perspective, and not only have i never felt so empty, but my town, has never felt so. i go for a drive whenever i'm feeling so blue it's black, my moms used to drive me around to calm me down whenever i wouldn't stop crying, or fussing. it stuck, it's not the greatest idea sometimes, when you can't see the street through the tears, and your guts are balling up so hard from the heartache you might as well be having a seizure, i have yet to have an accident, so, i 'spose i'm doin' alright. seems like the longer i go without food, or love, the more lucid i get, shit defies all scientific knowledge, but again, i digress...
it all already feels so empty, all of it, even the things i enjoy are hollow, because i've no one to share them with. every burden lighter, every joy greater...
and i'm still losing.
my mother just had a major surgery, three of them, actually, and over the fifteen years that i've been taking care of her, i've never seen her look worse, or been more saddened by her increasing hermitism, by the speed at which her mind is slipping, and the length of the deterioration of her body seemingly endless. we don't really get along anymore, which, is also rather saddening, 'specially given the circumstances. she's not necessarily on a timeline, but then again, she could die tonight, her condition is always precarious at best, though she manages somehow to put on the happy phone voice, and "feel pretty good", or whatever lie gets manufactured and manipulated throughout all of those conversations. she looks like shit-flavored-death, and there's no shaping that shit up on the spot, and i stand there on it, that spot, and i pretend i'm strong, my skin hanging on to my bones like my clothes now, baggy and wrinkled, my limbs almost atrophied, from laying for so long, hoping death would take me, but, my eyes, they're crazed, and if i didn't climb so many trees, they'd look like they were fucking wired open. i think somehow, i'm more here than ever...
there's a lot more, but, this is fucking ridiculous, and i need to go for a drive anyhow.
what does one say, when "to be continued" feels like it could make my life story trivial, which, of course it is, but, again, i digress...
i only listen to shit that makes my heart swell enough to explode, i only ask that when it does, you act like you've been fairly warned.
edit:
i'm starting to believe in myself again. this isn't my fault, and i'm not carrying it any farther. i met someone, it's sure to be a complete disaster, but, i'm good with that. it's reliable. thanks, for my birthday, getting to see the baby was the only bright spot on an otherwise irredeemable day. i miss you, still, everyday. i'm trying to remember when it was good, and hold on to how much we loved each other, what we stood against, not what took us apart. it's hard, i still cry, too much to be healthy, and all of your hate still echoes in my heart-space, but i love you despite myself. i know that you have to keep hating me, to maintain the edges on hatches we can never bury, for what it's worth, i forgive you. i still walk hard, with purpose i don't know that i'll ever understand. safe travels, i hope someday, when they ask you 'bout me...
