I'm not even sure anyone reads this...but if you're out there I'm waiting. I don't even know what I'm waiting for anymore. Sometimes when I'm not sleeping things move uncontrollably. The music in my head keeps me up at night. I write all the words I can remember in order alphabetically. The list is shorter every night. Without sleep I find that everything makes a little more sense. Without food I find that I don't need it to continue. It must have been weeks since I slept for a regular amount of time. It's as if one day has become a cycle of many light and dark periods and none of it is making much sense. As I pace I try to find focus in a book but the words dance on the page so I have to put it down. I sing to forget, I write to remember. I am starting to shake uncontrollably. I notice it when I pour. TV stays on to converse with me. I hate it's train of thought. Every other channel is someone telling me about God and how he was forgotten but with another dollar and another gay converted we'll either resurrect truth or make our own. I'm not buying it and even if I wanted to, I'm too poor. I don't have time for this false worship, I'm busy looking for something important. I don't remember what it is, but I remember that it was worthwhile. If I believe what my friend tells me, happiness is a machine that's small and dices or purees with the press of one simple button and if I change my mind I can have a vacuum that sucks up nuts and bolts. If I turn it off I end up here. Sending messages along the coppertone highway, screaming to no one at the speed of light. I'm writing on the walls of an abandoned building. Just keep moving.
