whatever

I watched another man
play for another woman
a song he wrote

and I explode
because I remembered that now his song
means nothing
it is fake
all the words
they're not real
they are from a dictionary
and they dont mean anything

I am in ashland oregon
not like you care
or anyone else
I am quite happy
contrary to my tone

I am quite happy
that does not mean cheerful
or nice
that mean inside I am not grieving
but looking for something else to fill me
feel me fill me

My friends around me are drawing
they are clearing their minds of doodles
I am drinking a good soy cap
its not a bad one, but a good one and that makes all the difference

so, moving on
moving out
moving away
moving on
and into a new space and time and period and everything

this time could be called moving
because in a lot of ways im moving
from the apartment that reminds me of great sex
and the apartment that cast me away from the world with people
into solitude and depression and tragedies in 3

I wont tell sarcastic jokes now,
I'll never say never
and I'll never trust friday the 13th
for good or bad, what's the difference anyways.

who knows if I'll ever find what I need

listening to: the decemberists, but not by choice, its coffee shop music

i feel absolutely hopeless

College teaches me
even if I could make myself happy
if I could get over my petty issues and emotional baggage
if I would love myself and others again
I would not fix the problems of the world
one way or another corruption would overcome all the good I could do


Even if I were to feel good
things would not be good
it would just be me tricking myself long enough to feel okay
maybe get married buy a house
things that make you happy right
and when you get those things
reality sets in that you are buying corruption
and your husband is cheating

If life is a series of depressions
with a hint of joy once a year,
what a fucking tease
why would I ever want to do this
over and over and over

I'd rather see what's next
and if its nothing
at least I wouldn't have to pretend
pretend to live and love and be strong
try to self medicate and sugar coat what realy does suck
and people trying to help me agree:
that this does just really suck
this is a shitty situation and shitty luck and horrible circumstances
and even the one who said he'd always be here for me
isnt.








p.s. I wrote on the bathroom wall for the first time
it was a chalk board and i wrote
the fear of death is irrational