i feel like i'm drowning in the hell of myself. i'm torturing myself in my head. i feel overwhelmed and incompetent. i'm scared of making mistakes. i don't want to deal with it anymore. i take myself too seriously. i have no skin. i'm throwing together a bunch of sentences fueled by my oversensitive anguish. i just want to feel like i belong. i beat myself up all the time. i feel like i deserve to be beaten up, like i'm no good, like i don't deserve to be treated well- even by myself. i was treated with contempt for so long that now i don't know how to heal and be whole. i make value judgements about myself based on the way people treat me. i feel like my brain is going to start cracking from the stress. i feel like no matter what i do it'll never be good enough and that it's already too late. i'm in love with someone that doesn't love me and i feel like it's just another sign that i don't deserve to be loved, that i'm unlovable. i'm so scared of failure and i just want to sleep forever because i don't want to hurt anymore. i don't want people to look at me and think things about me because i'm worried that i'm just a big joke. my anxiety is so bad that i feel like i can't breathe because my throat is full of rocks. i spend most of my time high out of my mind because otherwise i can't stop crying. i'm a complete mess of a person and i feel like a waste of space. i don't want attention. i just want quiet affection and i still feel like that's asking for too much.

i need professional help, but i'm tired of repeating the same story and paying $200 an hour to hear what i already know. i've tried so many different kinds of medicine, but it all makes me feel stupid or more anxious. there isn't a solution, to be honest. you either deal with it or you don't. i guess that's why i'm a functioning pothead. i don't know if you've read bukowski's book "what matters most is how well you walk through the fire" but that's really what it is. 

"and don't forget: 
time is meant to be wasted, 
love fails
and death is useless."

i feel strange, disconnected, trying to figure out what everyone knows that i don't. i feel sad, like a hook thru my heart pulling me thru the ground. 

i guess people don't get it, anymore. it's probably me, but come on, somebody has to be on my side so it might as well be me.

people say mean things, like nails on my mental chalkboard.

but this is what i want to write about. this is what i have to say. it's up to me how to colour in my existence

and i keep crossing lines.

i wish i could have one more day of thinking i was loved. it all turned out to be shit, but i'd love to believe it again for 24 hours and then come right back to building myself up from the ashes. but i'll feel better soon, i hope. so i'll try not to worry and i'll read my textbooks and try to realize that we are all alone.

taking the silver spoon out of my mouth and smacking the crystal,

i stand up and vomit.

the curtains keep getting sucked back through the window and pushed out, strangled by the air and lack thereof.

my dog follows me through my empty house like an asteroid moon.

outside, i hear the cars start and the shovels break ice and the peace that compresses my soul.

my pillars crumble with the gripping lack of something essential.

i'm throwing bait at the stars, hoping for a bite. setting traps in the milky way, squinting, hopeful. but what would i do if i caught one? stars can't give hugs, stars can't open jars, stars can't tell jokes. and where would i find a trophy case big enough?

so, i've decided that i don't want a star anymore. i'm going to sit right here on this blue planet and cry and cry and cry. i hide in my landfill of a room, chewing on my lips and trying to explain my obsession with the cosmos to my dog. he doesn't really get it but he likes it when i rub his belly.

i found a spark on earth but i got too close and i got shot backward with a blackened face and frizzed out hair. i lay back down in the snow and kept looking at the stars. so, that's what stars are for. looking at, dreaming about, describing. you can't catch and keep a star anymore than you can catch and keep the one you love. 

you are depressed because you haven't built anything that, you feel, justifies your life. you don't feel like you've earned the right to life. but life is an inalienable right. what you absorb with your mind shapes you and you in turn shape the world. when it's your turn to grab the reins, will you do justice? 

i'm sitting in my car smoking cigarettes and watching Good Will Hunting on my laptop. in 40 minutes, i have another class and i know i failed the last test. it's a 2nd year biology course and i struggle with biology. i'm going to attend class even though i have no idea what's going on and i'm going to try my best to do better. my other classes are going alright, but i know i can do better. i want to finish school and be somebody that justifies their existence.

for now, i'll take it day by day. i'll finish this movie, go to class, try to understand that sodium channel stuff, and then go see my friends. it's a pretty okay life.

pink leaves tumbling out of your mouth, cutting me in quarters not dimes not pennies. you're the most horrible thing that's ever happened to me, but it's my own fault for being so goddamn stupid.

i get scared sometimes to leave the house and i'm so angry, so bitter. i lash out yet i'm the one left with the scars. i've got money on my mind but my wallet is so empty. i spend my money on stupid shit and cry when i don't have any money left for more stupid shit. i didn't write here for a while because i was worried about what to say, what it meant, what i was writing for. but then i realized that people come and go here. i've been here for over six years so i don't care what pretentious people, that see only what the inside of their rectum and small intestines look like, have to say about my writing.

and i realize that the people that are the most critical of others are the most critical of themselves, realizing that they don't like what they see in themselves so they decide to dislike what they see in others so they don't feel alone.

i'm difficult lately, but i'm in a lot of pain. i see babies with beautiful eyes and sweet voices everywhere and all i want to do is die so i can wash my hands and say sorry but i know i'll never be forgiven i know i'll never atone for my sin and my life is meaningless when i look at the immensity of the choice i made and how i wouldn't change it if i could so i'm sorry and sorry and sorry but it doesn't mean anything because i'm weak and feeble and the beat of my heart will never be the same with you gone from my soul. because you took a piece of my soul with you and i hope it serves you well as fly through the galaxy of nothing i condemned you to. i love you but i'm weak and humanity is cursed with the burden of humanity. 

a star in my belly

who am i to pretend to understand the cosmos?

the earth licks its lips, soft green lips, and takes away everything we want and don't want 

he doesn't look at me like the way he used to

it's funny that the loneliest people look down upon everyone else

because they are so scared that everyone will look down upon them

we only look up when we need something 

a single beam of light in the cosmos, a point smaller than a point on the time space continuum,

blinded by your importance yet doubtful of your significance

as you selfishly discard your consciousness,

the brief orange, trembling, melting fall into a quiet night;

a long sigh that creeps through your nerves and swells out of your great mouth;

my thoughts and your thoughts and our thoughts combined,

into a motionless sea. just as you are not lost because you do not want to be found,

you cannot find because do not want to search.

you know not and you shall not

because you will not.

i was bullied for most of my mandatory school career. i remember we used to always have those anti-bullying speakers come in and teachers would often take time aside during classes to discuss bullying. during those speeches, i would try to make eye contact with the people who bullied me. i wanted to see if they truly understood what they did to me, if they knew how much it hurt, if they knew how hard it was to get out of bed when i knew i'd have to see them.

but i never caught their gaze. 

however, one incident showed me the depth of their ignorance and denial. we used to have our desks arranged in little blocks of four with two desks side-by-side facing two desks side-by-side. i was fortunate enough to have one of my bullies sitting in my group of desks, directly facing me. i got to see her ugly mind everyday for a year.

well, anyway, one day the teacher told us that conflicts are like snowballs. if you keep pushing them, they just get bigger. the best course of action is not to react and walk away so they would melt. 

i tried to look jade in the eye during the spiel, but she didn't look at me.

shortly after the anti-bullying speech, we were filling out some inane worksheets and she was really tearing into me. after many months of silent contempt, i snapped and said something mean back. 

she said, "you're just pushing the conflict more and making the snowball bigger. the cycle will never end if you keep doing that."

i was dumbfounded. i had no response. and you know what?

i wish i could go back in time to fucking punch that cunt in the face.

seriously, people that fucking dense will never learn. i wish i could go back in time and clock her real nice, make her bleed a little.

dumb fucks, all of them. fucking bullies.

kids, punch your bullies in the face while you can still avoid being screwed for assault. you'll get suspended but my god, you will attain catharsis.

i'm thinking about sad things. 

let's go 3 years back in time. i am seventeen years old. i am in love for the first time. i build skyscrapers and laugh at time. and then he leaves and i lose my fucking mind.

i bought a dress and i wanted him to look at me. he didn't show up. he didn't show up

what do you know about art? what does anyone really know about art? we're all vomiting and stomping on anything that's ever mattered. i screw up my face so it's ugly and leaking all of the horrible things that you don't want to read about. so don't read about them

we're back to the present now. but can we ever leave anything behind? what's the difference between letting go and blowing your brains out? it's the same progression of events. it's always the same decay of emotion that leaves me wearing a pretty dress that does nothing for my ugly, scrunched up face pouring out of its mold.

there is a difference between letting go and blowing your brains out. it's the difference between natural erosion and an atomic bomb. 

i'm chasing a fly around my room and i'm losing my fucking mind. it's a dizzy panic. as soon as i think it's flown out, i hear it buzzing again and i run around in a frenzy as i wave around my notebook. my eyes grow wilder each time and i'm shaking with anger as i know it's flying around like a disgusting little moby dick of flies. or is there more than one? are there many flies taunting me and alternating their invasion of my room to drive me insane? it flies by again and i wave my book around trying to force it out of my room but it buzzes around oddly, swerving again and again until i lose sight of it. i know it'll fly by again but it's too fucking stupid to see the doorway and i'm too disgusted to actually kill it. i just want it gone, out of my room, out of my life. but i'm too scared to knock it out. 

what? do you know what i'm talking about?