There's a nagging voice in the imminent vicinity
spouting lies in sweet, oh so sweet phrases
the thought of surgically removing my ears
well, it rarely enters my mind-like simile of a brain anymore

It suddenly strikes me as somewhat obvious
I've never planned anything in my life
I've always just grasped the nearest emotional state
incorporated it as mine and focused on running as fast as I can
so, you know... no one notices my evilish laugh

The point is... as point usually are... vague
I think I have to start not giving a rats ass
or, to put it crudely... minimize the impact people have on me

I've never really liked writing... it always brings me down...
and reading just "feels" like you're doing something worthwhile
it's just a fancier way of taking a nap or generally avoiding movement
well, for me anyway... except for a few books and a bunch of poetry...

It's strange how easy I fall apart sometime
my paper-mind just accepts everything and anything...
usually it adds a few words, changes the meaning of others
it can take a simple hello to mean "I really wish you'd been stillborn"

I'm a mess
my chest feels like a hand clasped around the insides
clenching as tight as it can...
I'm so tired... I sleep so much and I'm so tired...

I've lost my thread... my pretty, red thread...
where it went nobody knows...

I seriously need a jug of coffee...
so I can sleep...
another dreamless night...
to wake up at two, three, four and way too late
late for another useless day at a school filled with people
people who have lives and dreams and opinions...
god... am I really that jealous?

Slap me... punch me... if you ever meet me...
kick my as... I need to feel something
I'll gladly take pain... over this nothingness...

Excuse me... someday I'll write something worth reading...

hopefully

/