TEN
I'm so torn, I don't know what to do. A job that's more stress than it's worth most of the time or a job that pays less and may have no future? I will definitely make more money at the job I'm at now, but I might go crazy in the process. Everyone who works there complains about how stressful it is, myself included, but I've got a lot of plans that involve a lot of moolah in the next few months. Will I be able to do them with a pay cut...?
NINE
I spent way too much money this week. I should have saved more. I should have stayed in and wrote more. I should have slept more. I should have done anything but buy all those drinks and all those pool games and all those dinners. I waste money like it's water...
EIGHT
My car insurance payment is coming up real soon and I have nothing saved. Wait, allow me to correct that, I have TWENTY SEVEN DOLLARS saved. I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that my insurance is gonna be more than that.
SEVEN
I'm writing again, as if I know that something will happen soon. As if I know that I won't be able to soon. Maybe I will maybe I won't. I don't like these times. Everything feels on edge. I don't want to do ANYTHING. I just want to put off every decision and curl my head under my knees and hide under the bed until tomorrow.
SIX
I can't hide though, I gotta get up, be a man and take care of things. SOmetimes I do and I'm proud of myself for it. Sometimes I waste my days and nights here in front of the computer walkin the SG boards or playing video games to shut down my brain for a while.
FIVE
I've got so many bad habits. I stand on the deck and smoke at midnight, wonder how such a small person can make such a big shadow on the ground. The ashes, like lava on the tip of the cigarette, turn a sickly gray and fall down into invisibility. When will I sleep? I have a plan you know...
FOUR
My plan is to get up early everyday and write for an hour. Then I'll get ready for work. After work I'll play my drums for 45min-and hour. Then I'll eat and shower and relax til bedtime. So why am I here? Writing this? Why am I such a night owl? Why do I do this to myself?
THREE
I've been having very vivid dreams. In one I protected a woman and her mother from two would-be assasins. We struggled in a public bathroom and I shot one of them then had a bullet graze my stomach and hip. In another, I fought Dave, but couldn't hurt him. No matter how many times I punched him, it did no damage. My friends all watched with the same look of pity and fear that one uses on the crazy homeless people who scream at you on the bus. "When will he get help?" their looks all said.
TWO
I'm stagnant. I feel like everyone else I know has grown up, while I'm trapped in high school. It's like never never land, except Peter Pan isn't staying a young, lithe boy. His eyebrows are starting to get those lines, his chest and stomach are smoothing out and those circles under his eyes get larger and darker every day it seems. I want out of neverland. I remember how to get in (third star to the right, straight on til morning) but now I'm stuck. I'm trapped right in between childhood and adulthood and I'm so scared that I'm gonna fuck up on my way up. That the elaborate house of cards I've built will one day come crashing down around my ears, leaving me with nothing but mess. Just keep trying.....just keep trying....
ONE
I'm lonely.
Really lonely.
I meet people and feel like my loneliness and depression oozes out of me like the dirt that used to cloud around Pigpen. They look at me and talk to me and know right away that something is missing. Some essential part that is required has been left out or broken and now this delicate human machine is running badly. Like they know that my smile and my good humor and my clever observations are all just a paper thin facade and that one day soon, that facade is going to crack and fall away and the madness will sweep away what was left of the person in a violent storm.
Some of my dreams are still about her.
Sometimes I lay in bed at night, and I can still feel her heartbeat close to mine. I can still smell her hair and skin. Her rythmic breathing still comforts me for just a second. The the mirage gives way to the reality and it hurts that much more. I'm not horny. I'm not a sex fiend. I just want a warm body next to me at night. I just want to wake up and snuggle up to someone and be tempted to call out of work so I can stay in bed with the person I love all day long. I want to fix whatever is broken. I'm taking my car to the mechanic to find out why the brakes squeek but I need to take myself to the mechanic to find out why my soul bleeds.
I never really understood how much power came from a journal until recently. It's a great way to exorcise demons. Thanks for listening.
I'm so torn, I don't know what to do. A job that's more stress than it's worth most of the time or a job that pays less and may have no future? I will definitely make more money at the job I'm at now, but I might go crazy in the process. Everyone who works there complains about how stressful it is, myself included, but I've got a lot of plans that involve a lot of moolah in the next few months. Will I be able to do them with a pay cut...?
NINE
I spent way too much money this week. I should have saved more. I should have stayed in and wrote more. I should have slept more. I should have done anything but buy all those drinks and all those pool games and all those dinners. I waste money like it's water...
EIGHT
My car insurance payment is coming up real soon and I have nothing saved. Wait, allow me to correct that, I have TWENTY SEVEN DOLLARS saved. I could be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that my insurance is gonna be more than that.
SEVEN
I'm writing again, as if I know that something will happen soon. As if I know that I won't be able to soon. Maybe I will maybe I won't. I don't like these times. Everything feels on edge. I don't want to do ANYTHING. I just want to put off every decision and curl my head under my knees and hide under the bed until tomorrow.
SIX
I can't hide though, I gotta get up, be a man and take care of things. SOmetimes I do and I'm proud of myself for it. Sometimes I waste my days and nights here in front of the computer walkin the SG boards or playing video games to shut down my brain for a while.
FIVE
I've got so many bad habits. I stand on the deck and smoke at midnight, wonder how such a small person can make such a big shadow on the ground. The ashes, like lava on the tip of the cigarette, turn a sickly gray and fall down into invisibility. When will I sleep? I have a plan you know...
FOUR
My plan is to get up early everyday and write for an hour. Then I'll get ready for work. After work I'll play my drums for 45min-and hour. Then I'll eat and shower and relax til bedtime. So why am I here? Writing this? Why am I such a night owl? Why do I do this to myself?
THREE
I've been having very vivid dreams. In one I protected a woman and her mother from two would-be assasins. We struggled in a public bathroom and I shot one of them then had a bullet graze my stomach and hip. In another, I fought Dave, but couldn't hurt him. No matter how many times I punched him, it did no damage. My friends all watched with the same look of pity and fear that one uses on the crazy homeless people who scream at you on the bus. "When will he get help?" their looks all said.
TWO
I'm stagnant. I feel like everyone else I know has grown up, while I'm trapped in high school. It's like never never land, except Peter Pan isn't staying a young, lithe boy. His eyebrows are starting to get those lines, his chest and stomach are smoothing out and those circles under his eyes get larger and darker every day it seems. I want out of neverland. I remember how to get in (third star to the right, straight on til morning) but now I'm stuck. I'm trapped right in between childhood and adulthood and I'm so scared that I'm gonna fuck up on my way up. That the elaborate house of cards I've built will one day come crashing down around my ears, leaving me with nothing but mess. Just keep trying.....just keep trying....
ONE
I'm lonely.
Really lonely.
I meet people and feel like my loneliness and depression oozes out of me like the dirt that used to cloud around Pigpen. They look at me and talk to me and know right away that something is missing. Some essential part that is required has been left out or broken and now this delicate human machine is running badly. Like they know that my smile and my good humor and my clever observations are all just a paper thin facade and that one day soon, that facade is going to crack and fall away and the madness will sweep away what was left of the person in a violent storm.
Some of my dreams are still about her.
Sometimes I lay in bed at night, and I can still feel her heartbeat close to mine. I can still smell her hair and skin. Her rythmic breathing still comforts me for just a second. The the mirage gives way to the reality and it hurts that much more. I'm not horny. I'm not a sex fiend. I just want a warm body next to me at night. I just want to wake up and snuggle up to someone and be tempted to call out of work so I can stay in bed with the person I love all day long. I want to fix whatever is broken. I'm taking my car to the mechanic to find out why the brakes squeek but I need to take myself to the mechanic to find out why my soul bleeds.
I never really understood how much power came from a journal until recently. It's a great way to exorcise demons. Thanks for listening.