I Slept With Bonhomme at the CBC

Feel Good Lost.

http://grooveshark.com/#/album/Feel+Good+Lost/90855?src=5

Drinking. I never could get behind it, and yet now I must to scour all the ill influence and negative thoughts from my mind, along with such inhibitions as the meaningless guilt and shame menagerie on constant play in my mind.

Here's to the good life, wherever it is, whatever it may be.

Even if I'm no longer a gentleman, I will drink like one from now on.

So where have I been? I've stuck myself into one of those eternal ruts to see if it'll suit me any better, to self-flagellate myself for every minor sin I commit in my waking life. It hasn't, and yet I'm stuck in the rut. I wake, I sleep, while everything in-between the two is a matter of lost and wasted time. I blame it on the weather, but even that's not true in the entirety of things. The truth is, I let myself fall so low as to no longer have confidence in my actions or my thoughts, and as such I've become the kind of person I despise the most; someone who lives in every fear of their own shadow. I can't even take a piss without feeling disgusting.

I think I raped myself, it's the only justification for the amount of violation I feel.

Anyway, I haven't seen much of anyone, and I've begun to push away those I still know due to varying reasons; either they haven't changed much, or they've changed too much. I believe they've done the same for me and my intolerable makeshift personality. It makes me wanted to be consistently fucked up on drugs just so my appearance isn't as predictable as theirs.

You don't know me.

Harsh words, but they always fall on deaf ears since no-one ever took me as an honest person.

I hate your sense of humor. You're not funny, you are very annoying. And so I will annoy you back until you never speak another annoying word to me again.

/childish breakdown

annoyannoyannoyannoyannoyannoyannoyannoyannoyannoyannoyannoyannoyannoyannoy

/childish breakdown

Except the word "annoy" will be filled with sarcasm hatred laced counter humor in real life when I'm talking to you.

I don't know what I've done or what's been done to me to make such an unfriendly person out of who I was. It's like each day I get further away from all the good things I used to know about myself. I also measure that with each friend I lose.

And so, as the friends and days drop like flies, I consider killing myself or joining the army to have someone else kill me for what they think I believe. And I'm not a pessimist. Should I survive I'll be a better person than anyone else you know. Yours truly will be a new Great Gatsby, forever doomed to be fucked by life and love.

I became abstinent to try and regain my innocence about love. It hasn't worked yet. I'll let you know if it does.

I play guitar better than I used to, but I don't really feel anything when I play it any more. In fact, I rarely feel any emotions, which most people don't take seriously or find hard to fathom considering they still have theirs and never lost them. And considering emotions are the driving force behind most actions, that answers why I never do much of anything.

I don't think I have a soul anymore.

You think I'm exaggerating, joking, being poetic, or I'm simply wrong, well, you can go fuck yourself with a screwdriver. (Funny, I'm drinking a screwdriver right now. 1 - Subconscious 0 - Me) The only times I being completely honest is when I post in this blog, and it just goes to show you never understood me when all of this is (or might never be) held up to my personal history and those who thought they knew me. After all, I'll get the last laugh when I kill myself some years down the line with a favored pistola. And I won't shoot myself in the brain, but the heart. As foolish as that sounds, I don't want to look a mess for the funeral home.

I'm not worth anyone's time. Not even my own. And this isn't an ode to self-pity, just a very long suicide note explaining why I did it. And if I don't kill myself, well, this is just a memoir of how rubbish life exactly is.

Yeah.

Apology to You.

I am so so so sorry.

I'll stop now.

I only did it for so long because I'm not myself.

New Spring.

Can't give in yet, despite myself. Somewhere the realest part of me is still wandering about with a lit lantern, keeping myself from dead ends. And in the night it haunts me like a distant melody from a song, misconstrued and held true to the shape of my mind, in a ghost's "Who are you?". So I wonder, having been crippled, if I can walk again and whether or not I should even try to climb insurmountable walls even if I could. To take my own thoughts and push against the boulder rolling downhill at speeds the last of my kind dropped it at, seeing if maybe this time will be the time I'll succeed in trying to open a new beginning and the potential for a true ending.

I don't speak my best unless I'm pushed to it, because I think it's a waste to show my heart in fear I'll waste it on anything less than what I really want.

All melodrama aside, I got lost in who I'm not, and in that vast clusterfuck of personality, I began picking at the threads that make me who I am. And considering I only had the vaguest idea of who I was and an even vaguer idea of who I'd like to become, it's a goddamn struggle. All's not lost though, after all, I still exist, right? Though I always feel the sensation that time's running out.

What if time is running out? And then I panic. Except panic never helped me in the slightest.

I've been dissolving so long in despair that most of me has wasted away in my character building that nothing's left to remember what it feels like to feel okay, much less good.

god, even my most recent Youself playlist doesn't help.

I figure it'll all make sense eventually. It damn well better, I've been mixing up trying forever, waiting forever, and giving up forever with little success any way I've gone.

All I've got left is my hopes.

So, psychiatrist appointment within the next ten days, gotta find a way back into college, save money for car insurance, and somehow stay sane. Which is considerably harder than expected.

I'm Albumstuck.

Medium is my favorite new instrumental album of the year, courtesy of the Homestuck Music Crew. Check out their other ten billion songs too.

http://homestuck.bandcamp.com/album/medium

Hope

"If you're going to try, go all the way. Otherwise, don't even start. This could mean losing girlfriends, wives, relatives and maybe even your mind. It could mean not eating for three or four days. It could mean freezing on a park bench. It could mean jail. It could mean derision. It could mean mockery--isolation. Isolation is the gift. All the others are a test of your endurance, of how much you really want to do it. And, you'll do it, despite rejection and the worst odds. And it will be better than anything else you can imagine. If you're going to try, go all the way. There is no other feeling like that. You will be alone with the gods, and the nights will flame with fire. You will ride life straight to perfect laughter. It's the only good fight there is."

4/1/11

Gotta draw the line somewhere.

"Let's Dance to Joy Division" My ass.

Am I indie enough yet? Do I qualify to be someone you like yet? Am I fit to be wearing a hipster crown? I'd tell you to go fuck yourself but I'm sure you're desensitized now with your irony, the misused beauty of love for catastrophe. Go suck your own dick. Just kidding.

It's not that I lack tact, but refinement. My shock and dismay is too great to be contained by paper plates of how I feel in the company of Everyone, where I'm the only one not talking, it's like I'm the only one not here, or I'm the only one at all, sorry, I'm a wallflower blended in, for sink or swim I'm not like you. and though I haven't read the book I immediately understand the concept of being noticed and instantly forgotten.

I am an invisible
disappearing
entertaining
foolish
obnoxious soul.

Or... a ghost, if you prefer.
I guess I'm not cut out for anyone.

Just kidding.
I'm serious.

Lost my mind, got it back.

Gonna on the attack.

I don't believe in my mind

I don't know whether to doubt myself or not care about doubting. It's a confusing mix of the two when you live in a split world, where you walk the line without notice in one while you're always gone in the other, as opposed to a dream where you're living but never thinking, because you live like you know what you're doing, carried by some purpose. I wonder why life isn't like that? Why isn't life more like a dream, you know? It feels as if it's everything but. I feel like a shape cut, a jigsaw without the rest of the board. So when will it all come together?

I swear I know sometimes, but every not and then I lose hope and heart.

Is it a tragic, or comedic? It all depends on how you see it and whatever your sense and humor might be, I guess.

I think it was always one or the other, never both, but it seems to change in whoever's eyes I'm looking through. So I wonder what I feel like when I'm wearing glasses, or (if I already am) when I'm not, if you understand.

So I wonder who I am, if you catch my drift.

That's what I wonder about every day. As someone open to influence I am, I've lost all sight of what it's like to be myself, because I lost my real self a long time ago when I began to wonder about what life is anyway. Like a dream who fell out of the dream, I walk in confused ways because I don't think this is the life that could be.

so who knows anyway.

Confessions

I was wrong about 99% of everything. Even love won't save you.