if i could write you a final memo,

i'd include the names of all the places

i almost saw with you.

i'd add the post script to explain the scalding ache

of a lover's silence.

i'd send it right before the morning dew set in.

it's not that i am particularly adept

at facing the pathetic madness in this world.

but rather that it's the same madness

that is revealed again and again.

the only difference is that it's amplified each and ever time.

as i wait patiently for the fatal, telling blow,

i smile because i have lost a war

with no sides.

i'm watching pride and prejudice. people are terrible, but i wish i could be close to them. i wish i liked people more and trusted them. i wish i hadn't smoked my last cigarette already. i have to leave early for work tomorrow so i can buy a new pack. i work all day tomorrow and then i have to get stoned with my friend. i don't really want to because i feel disconnected from that friendship, but i've already been avoiding it for a little while now.

i'm very tired so i think i'll just watch the rest of the movie tomorrow. it feels weird to be back at work full-time for the winter break. everything feels weird lately. i wish i had more things to be excited for. i love my dog a lot and i wish i actually had a good relationship with my parents. i feel like my life is mostly empty. i want to really know someone and have someone really know me.

all of these wishes and feelings never get me anywhere. but what else can i talk about? i don't really understand where my life is going.

the world is an indifferent machine that has a single motive. when the limits of the machine have been exceeded, the products created are erased. then the machine starts again, more efficiently, after every erasure. the products, themselves, have no meaning. yet, as collateral to the improvement of the machine, the products evolve to the point of self-awareness.

("It's because we're so trapped in our culture, in the being of being human on this planet with the brains we have and the same two arms and legs everybody has. We're so trapped that any way we could imagine to escape would be just another part of the trap. Anything we want, we're trained to want.")

unable to accept their role, they assign meaning to the functions of the machines and try to understand its intricacies. this is pointless because the products are not meant to know anything. the products can only experience the various parts of the machine during their development. they attempt to transform their experiences into knowledge, but there is no real truth for the products. they are free to experience, but their beliefs hold no weight. the products, themselves, have no real goal. they are to be created and then erased.

("You are not special. You're not a beautiful and unique snowflake. You're the same decaying organic matter as everything else. We're all part of the same compost heap. We're all singing, all dancing crap of the world.")

the products give the machine its purpose.

i had a dream about that jerk the other night. he had bleary eyes that missed me! but no, i woke up and i know that's not the case. i don't think it was ever the case. i bought myself a few clothes today, even though i probably shouldn't have. i just figured i needed to be cheered up. i feel so ungrateful, but christmas frustrates me. people always get me stupid shit i don't need or want and i always have to spend so much money. i hate this season. i think it's stupid because neither jesus or santa exist. and before you start on me, the grinch doesn't exist either.

after i reached home from the mall, i got stoned with my new bong (also something to cheer myself up) and ate cinnabon alone in my car listening to the xx. probably the best christmas eve i've ever had. i don't have anything to be cheered up for, but i feel so low a lot of the time. i try to stay cheerful and strong around people, but i think they see that i'm just a fake. i also think that they don't really care because they're waiting for their turn to express and shine. i don't shine or express. i regurgitate and my shine is more like a glare-- out of place and annoying. i like being by myself, to be honest. it's not that i hate people. it's that people don't make me happy anymore. all of the people that used to make me smile only make me cry now.

the passengers in my car give me less company than the leather upholstery, but they leave a residue. when they close the door (always too roughly), the car still feels full of their nonsense until i smoke it out. i feel crazy because these are my friends i'm talking about. why do i hate them so much? they haven't really done anything wrong. they just don't make me happy and that's my fault. i'm ungrateful and i have restricted boundaries.

i am unhappy and desperately trying to find peace, but the world is chaotic and people are messy. i don't trust anything and, as a result, i am so resentful. if i turned and fell backward, i feel as though i'd fall forever.

it really is a big hole in my chest sometimes. like a bombed out crater. it's falling rocks and waterfalls. like being trapped behind invisible glass banging fists but no sound no feeling. all of the things in my head are just that. 

if you really think about it what is breathing for? it's a scary notion but i wish i could break through it all. not gone but here. all eyes and lips moving. bursts of laughter and feeling like a hard earned warmth. 

love is the middle and the end.