"The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion." -Albert Camus

i'm slowly gathering up power again, like i waited a turn after using hyper beam. i'm going to rise up, not like a messiah but, like a twist in the plot. i've accepted that it's always going to hurt at least a little and that makes it easier. i'm going to keep fighting and i think you should too. that's the only way to make it, really. you've come so far and so have i. giving up now would mean forfeiting a well-deserved victory. and are you seriously willing to let them win? REALLY, those bitches and assholes with their ugly minds? you're going to let THEM win over YOU? well, FUCK THAT. i'm going to triumph and the haters can eat shit.

it's like chocolate skin melting under blinding white heat. cold at first, but flowing through touch soon enough. pressed close, but with still a hint of aloofness. it's the fear that keeps us alive, i bet. and maybe i never found that stranger from the bus station because, maybe, that's not how destiny works. the movies make it look so efficient when, really, the process is fraught with mistakes. and i guess i'm scared of being attached to any noun. the verbs take too much time and soul. and if that makes me an adjective, well, i'll have to accept that. i'll keep saying sorry with my eyes and lips and body, if that makes you feel adverb. my heart became hellen keller. "see, i could have me a good guy and still be addicted to them hood rats and i just blame everything on you at least you know that's what i'm good at"

and i guess i'm still dancing around my head, trying to live in a good memory when things are lonely. and maybe, i'm being irrational. but it still feels real, you know? whether or not it actually is reasonable, it still affects me. it's like nails digging into my heart, trying to keep a grip on reality. i guess sometimes i just need someone to talk at. it's nice when people listen, but they don't very often. and when i find someone who does listen, they just criticize the hell out everything i say because i never make much sense. so, i guess it's better when people just tune me out. that's the way it feels. i have friends, but i feel so disconnected nowadays. they say, "i love you, ash" and sometimes, i say it back. but often, i just smile widely and try to feel it. but mostly, i just feel nothing but white noise. being by myself hurts, but being around other people is scary. i'm pretty good at facing my fear a lot of the time. lately, though, it hasn't been worth it. so, i get stoned either by myself or with other people, and none of it matters anymore. i'm pretty low today. but i know i'll come back from it. i've been working on my self-confidence and trying to base it off myself, rather than on other people. i want to like myself just because, and not because some asshole with a moustache tells me i'm "slightly more interesting than other people". i think i'm great, and i need to start acting like it. FUCK THAT NOISE, right? "coz i've always been stronger than that hold the weight of the world on my back it's just love, selfish love love, selfish love"

my past rides by on a broken bike i used to own, circling me again and again until it crashes, finally, into me. am i what i used to be piled up and up until there is no way to take out parts of the tower without knocking down the whole structure? "you" is probably the best answer to a secretly gut-wrenching question, but not the answer to the aforementioned query. i remember when i raged and bellowed at my ex-lover and his mother turned up the sound of the slow, jazzy music coming from the movie downstairs. he quietly stood up and pulled me up to dance because he knew how much i would love that. there was peace briefly, but just long enough, for me to appreciate, but not love, him. his green eyes pored into mine and his eyelashes were soft, but i could not resign myself to such a perfect future. soon, like the song, his bright eyes turned red. and now i research angels and forget about god.

another boy's teeth on my chest now and i feel gutted and alone still. i've been spending lots of time with him and his teeth. we talk for hours and sometimes we kiss for about as long. a smoky sense of disillusionment chokes me up all the time. and i know he's going to get bored of me and then i'll lose interest in him and his teeth will stop tearing into me. and i wish i could say that i was too stoned, too cold, too sad to care but i'm still choked up all the time. the concept of "certainty" eludes me. there is no "tomorrow", but rather a mess of time and space that is indifferent to all. i'm poisoned by chronic loneliness and i'm always welcomed back to the silence of my bedroom after all the light has gone. "there is always one man to save you from another and as that man saves you he makes ready to destroy" -charles bukowski