|
|
I am a danger to myself and others.
"I say let's evolve, and let the chips fall where they may."
Drug withdrawls are not as bad as all the sissies out there would have you believe.
Oh, you've already endeared yourself to me after all this time of not caring. Let's not be coy here. You're wanting something.
I'm stupid, angry, and bored so I may just go for it.
Fuck.
Que the obligatory playing of "Cumbersome" by Seven Mary Three at this point.
It's sad when you hope to yourself that you won't die overnight. It's even sadder when you hope you do.
"Can I make it right? Can I spend the night... Alone?"
"Blue", by Angie Hart of Splendid
Six 1000 milligram hydrocodones and one really skunky joint.
You hate fat people? I hate bitches that aren't sucking my dick so I guess we're even. Oh, and you could stand to lose about forty pounds you crazy, hypocritical bitch.
Some people are so desperate that they will open up their meaningless lives to just about anyone.
Oops....
Well, at least some of us do it rather tastefully.
You'd look better anorexic.
I want to live somewhere sterile and cold; Just like my heart.
"And where were you?"
- "Blue", by Angie Hart of Splendid
I must now seek my perfect self, as well.
And if you give me half a chance, I'll break you worse than you could imagine.
"I felt like destroying something beautiful."
"And then, something happened. I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom."
"I felt like putting a bullet between the eyes of every Panda that wouldn't screw to save its species. I wanted to open the dump valves on oil tankers and smother all the French beaches I'd never see. I wanted to breathe smoke."
"I am Jack's complete lack of surprise."
"Strangers with this kind of honesty make me go a big rubbery one."
For a change from the usual pot and/or hydrocodones I went with pot and morphine. It's a nice change, I guess.
Shacked up with and already fucking someone else. Now, I should have seen that one coming but I really didn't. Oh, bell.
And they wonder why I do drugs?
Bob Marley said it best, "No woman, no cry.".
At least she'll give me drugs as a consolation prize.
Thank you for your contribution to my ever quickening downward spiral.
Thank you for your shallow judgment.
Thank you for your push over the edge.
"I will babble, I will bite. Never know how much you shine."
How many people do you know that will get fucked up and write rants in html?
God, I'm so alone.
"The more I give to you the more I die."
"And I want you."
- Nine Inch Nails, "The Perfect Drug"
"Scene Twenty-Four, Act Two"
Sometimes, I realize that it is better that I'm alone.
There are no distractions.
There is no great struggle for power.
There is no pretending.
No one to watch out for. No one to impress. No one to comfort, protect, love, cherish, care for, fuck, hate, embitter.
Draw the shades. Drop the curtain. Fade to black.
"without you you; it's not as much fun to pick up the pieces."
:"You look very pale and tired."
::"I don't feel too well."
(Must be all that misery I'm in.)
"I love you. I love you. I love you. What's your name?"
- Sonic Youth, "Drunken Butterfly" from Dirty
And now to the current standby when nothing else is available: Large quantities of muscle relaxers.
And I had the audicity to wonder why I was nicknamed, "The Pharmacist".
I made an 'A' in a Cisco Internetworking class. I'm learning AIML(Artificial Intelligence Markup Language), and I'm writing conversationally(or anticoversationally) in html. Oh, and I have almost as much, if not more conversations with my AI's, ALice and Liz, than I do with actual people. Yes, I'm a geek.
"Yellow roses in the grave yard; Got no time to watch them grow."
- Beck, "Guess I'm Doing Fine" from Sea Change
It's only tears that I'm crying.
(Actually, I'm fairly sure that I'm incapable of crying anymore. It just won't happen.)
I think I'm having the most consistant gas of my life and I can't decide if it's a drug side effect, lack of the right drug side effect, or being off my diet.
My stomach is in near constant pain these days.
Coincidentally, so is my pride.
Spend a week with your balls hurting. That will show you humility at it's finest.
Que the obligatory playing of "Lost Cause" by Beck at this point.
Self destruction is not as fun as those fools in the movies would have you believe.
Making a star-crossed loser, disenchanted ex, and raving loonatic sandwhich can be an awkward state of affairs.
Nothing goes better together than alcohol and firearms.
Sometimes I can even hear it in my head, "Danger, Will Robinson. Danger.".
That's probably not good.
Anybody can drive around with one foreign substance in their body. But it takes skill to do it with three thrashing about in the boodstream.
Bring it, Mexicans. Try to rob me. I'm stupid and have nothing to lose so give it your best shot.
Don't ask me about my business. Never, ever ask me about my business.
"And then, something happened. I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom."
Somebody keeps sending me emails about drug rehab. I think someone's trying to make a statement.
(Although, by that logic they also want me to enlarge my breasts, look at lots of porn, make my dick better(ie. harder, longer, wider), and consolidate my imaginary debt.)
Ah, good times. Good times. Just hand me a gun so I can make them better.
Freedom is that nothingness between your legs that you try to pass off as a heart.
This night of intoxicants among near strangers and those known to me who puzzle me more than them, I am reminded of a wonderful quote:
"Strangers with this kind of honesty make me go a big rubbery one."
My life is utterly empty.
Losing all hope was freedom.
