whoa.

on the bright side, my misfortune concerned some of you so much that my shows have sold out. thank you for this light in the darkness.

not very poetic tonight. just honest.

unbelieveable.

sometimes i wonder if releasing my demons through my outlets is the right thing to do, when devils surround my insides with photography, bad lies, and lack of privacy.

at least the bleeding has not been documented.

i'm running on couple day delay.

how dare you tell me you need me to do things, when you can't reciprocate.

sticky tube

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let's start this blog over.

you'll be hearing things soon. not whispers, not negatives. just organised sound.

and the sun will rise tomorrow.

whether i want it to or not.

where the fuck am i?

can i clean slate?
can i start over?
can i just wipe myself clean?
when will this end?
when will it stop hurting?
when will i accept the fact that i fucked up, not just understand it?


when can i get this off my fucking chest?

Is it a sin? Is it a crime?
Loving you dear like I do.
If it's a crime then I'm guilty.
Guilty of loving you.

Maybe I'm wrong dreaming of you
Dreaming the lonely night through
If it's a crime then I'm guilty
Guilty of dreaming of you

What can I do? What can I say
After I've taken the blame?
You say you're through, you'll go your way.
But I'll always feel just the same.

Maybe I'm right, maybe I'm wrong
Loving you dear like I do.
If it's a crime, then I'm guilty.
Guilty of loving you.

What can I do? And what can I say
After I've taken the blame?
You say you're through, you'll go your way.
But I'll always feel just the same.

Maybe I'm right, maybe I'm wrong
Loving you dear like I do.
If it's a crime, then I'm guilty.
Guilty of loving you.

running (out).

these gills have faded out, but i remain at the bottom of the ocean, waiting.
waiting without reason. the ending will remain the same.

and so i drown. they watch for me outside of the ocean, but i watch for mermaids.

i'm tired.

no prose, no stream of conscious. this is all i've got.

i'm not perfect. i can't handle a lot of things right now.

don't make this worse. it doesn't have to be.

just understand for once, please.

fuck.

fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck.

i'm a nomad now.

and through the darkness, i am trying to seek light.
i flip the switch - certainly there is a window.
opportunities gently grip my shoulder in patience. they tell me what i need to do.

i speak in black, but there are other hues that surround me. the yellows of the sunshine. you smile from miles away, and it reminds me that you'll always be there.

the horizon is distant and inviting, but no matter how far i run, it will always stay that way. distant. never inviting, though. i will never be invited again.

i died four months ago. you've forgotten my secrets in half of the time. i still mean every word that i spilled into your ears.



every.
   single.
       word.

it comes and it goes. it burns and it flows.

there's a past of mine that i just can't let go of.
a past that, despite the twists and turns in my stomach, it remains in tact.
she's saint, and she's my best friend (outside of blood).

she reminds me that, although i may not be going on, life surely does.
despite the pulsating pain of snapping bones, i am alive.
despite the part of me that's missing, it will return.

despite it all... there will always be a couch and an angel willing to sit with me.

i will never understand how someone could handle these roads and wounds for so many years, and then i remember that she understands. she knows me better than anyone does. better than i know myself. and although that's not enough to answer these questions, it's enough.

i am still in the beginning, despite the timely calucations slapped into my face a few days ago. the mathematics are against me, but i am against my own will. had i been selfish, a war would have ensued, and i would have lost. but i wouldn't have gone down without a fight.

i am no longer myself, though, this has been established. and until that homeless child returns, i am nothing but what you want me to be, only because my voice is missing. mirrors are shattered, and years and years of bad luck have been granted.

i needed our lack of talk. thank you.

saline saltines.

this subject will never grow stale.
however, i am changing the subject.
i am changing the scenery.
a change of pace, despite my pacemaker becoming faulty.
my favourite color consumes me.
it burns me. it revives me.
in that way that reminds me that i am alive.
in that way that reminds me that i am being eaten alive.

when the going gets tough, get the fuck out.
resources exhausted, resurrection initiated.
i ache for so much noise that i can't hear you.
that laugh is contagious, and the best i can do is run away from this disease.
my bones give me the impression that everything has been left in a forbidden country.
i prefer it that way. i don't want any of it back.

i don't want myself back. not halfway.