Nov 09, 2009

I’m sick of everything tonight. Another hangover that gets only worse everytime. I should become a full time drunk but I couldn’t afford it. and smoke cigarettes all day. Clickety clank clank sings my imaginary typewriter. I went to yoga class tonight but it made me feel worse. I wanted to tell the teacher to stop touching me. I just want to box. Swim so far that i’m too tired to swim back. Go see a ballet. Nutcracker. Crack me open. Crack me up. Play my guitar. Sing the blues. Fade away into whatever it is called when someone becomes an illusion. Listen to a vinyl version of the band of gypsies when the guitar solo kicks in on machine gun. Put it on repeat forever. Love is hopelessly far away tonight. Why does everyone think that what they know is true? I’m so undone. i’m a tiny little fragment of who I want to be. Yet here I dwell in hell. A miserable place to be but I mine as well. Frozen french fries. Stale coke. Dying plants. Dirty floor. Out of tune guitar. I wish I was a real poet.  A real musician. You know those guys who aren’t really good but who know how to please the modern mind. god I must be insane. who would’ve thought that smily boy would suffer. Put on my gloves. turn off the heat. I wanna freeze. and pretend like I have something to worry about. Oh but yeah i’ve been there before. I had this girl and we’d warm each other but she never warmed my soul. I believe you have just met mr.Markus’ other side. sure, we’ve all seen this movie before. Listen to your intuition babe. Whoever you are. I’m bad news. next episode: I get to share with you the dreams of a raging lifaholic. boys and girls, you’re okay. I like to sleep with doctors because with them it’s never about making…what do you call it? oh right, love.