rainspirit: (damiel)
[personal profile] rainspirit
Crack pipe. Crystal meth. Drug addiction. Wasting your life.

Turning them over in my head, those terms thrown at me. Getting more angry. Pissed off.

Plan B: Get a job doing some thing. Make enough money to pay for food, living costs. Drop off face of the earth. Do this for a couple years until I give a shit about something.

I don't care how many people say I'm brilliant anymore. It doesn't matter.

I don't care.

I don't want to make art if it means that every single thing is difficult. I don't want to do this for a living if it means I have to keep showing myself over and over.

Just give me some corner so I can pretend to be worthless for a while.

Let year 25 just pass onward with absolutely no change in my life from being struck down on high, forced to scrabble with my thoughts a mess, my confidence in shambles.

I missed it, it's done. I see people all around me taking off, and I'm still here. I see people younger than me doing great art and racing to the stars. I fucked up and I'm nowhere.

Finally, people are getting angry at me for being such a worthless fuck-up. Or getting worried, whatever, same thing. Realizing I've just been going on a wing and a prayer. An airship, dented and leaking oil.

I want people to pretend I don't exist for a while. Just let me starve. I don't know. Make me suffer for once. Make me get desperate and do something worse to make my life more screwed up than it is.

I'm going to bed early, have been doing so lately. Actually getting tired at this hour, no idea why. It doesn't matter. I'll still wake up feeling just as fucked up.

Blah blah blah blah exercise blah blah.

I don't have human connections anymore. One friend, parents. People online. The same cycle repeated. I made a list telling myself to make a list, take stock of all the friends I know in my general home area. I just nag people online and sometimes they're there for me, more often they're not.

I can go online now in a futile quest for love, and I will stay online until at least 2:00 AM. Or I can just go to bed now. Brush my teeth, floss. Pretense of normalcy.

I tried to write today. I guess I'm writing this instead. Warren Ellis' way of averting writer's block: Write about something else. I guess I'm amateur enough that I write about myself.

So tired of taking stock of my own self. Tired of whining. Tired of being sad, unfulfilled.

No one will ever accept me. What do I have to show for anything?
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May 2013

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