It's pieces of a plastic cup. Thank you, for everything you've done for me.
My little dog's porky now and an addict. She's got the manipulative mind and behavior, but due to mixed messages, I fear. I'm afraid to show her some tenderness before her bedtime, because that means she's going to be eating ham.
This one time I thought I was going to die after a few days of playtime. I was on my bed. A few minutes earlier, I had got to what little was left on the bathroom floor, along with who knows what chemicals. I didn't know if it was posion, or a heart attack or stroke; I couldn't move or breathe lying on my bed. When I was standing my whole body was numb. I kept whimpering in a voice I'll never forget, "please no, please no." I also kept repeating, "I'm so scared, I'm so scared," in a quick, continuous drone-like monotone. It felt like my brain had snapped.
I tried to blog "forgive me"
A few hours later I deleted it. After that time, I got angry. From then on, I ignored physical symptoms, cause the uncouth fucker was trying to kill playtime.
This other time I thought I had found my video. I was worn out; I didn't know if I could go again. Life was dragging me. I walked into the bathroom and he was sitting on the floor. If this was the real thing, it would trump everything. I would have to go again. This was the Holy Grail; then I would hang myself. Or go to sleep, forever, waking only for awhile. I was talking to myself in my head—I was sitting on my bathroom floor hiding with my ipad in my lap—like my father talked to me over the phone when my grandpa had died. I felt like I had my hand slightly on his shoulder when I told him. There wasn't time for sad; it was bigger. Though here I was telling him that we had found it. He was tired. We had been anticipating it for some time, and it was that tip of anticipation, the moment it becomes real. I watched it in a few more sessions, then when playtime crept up on me then I couldn't remember the title again. When playtime went wild, this started occurring frequently, and in quick moments passing. I would save them ferociously; some of them I didn't have time to get to. It was always her. Deep down, when it was over, I would bemoan the fact that I couldn't get to the other ones. I have to see it, all of it. I became her. I became him. I became them together. I knew exactly what each was thinking. I became every sensation, every moment, and every sound she made. I wonder if I would hang myself, if it was her. I don't ever want to know, because I'll never stop.
i have a problem with ego
not the waff—shut up!
sorry
mine is the size of america's obesity problem
ego and confidence are completely different things
different realms
i worked out today
enjoyed working
felt useful and innovative
sleepless it doesn't make a difference
im tired of watching lord of the rings
i keep renting it
even the great battle scenes are starting to bug me
even gandolph is
like shut up Gandolph!
stop being so...grand
and warm
should've looked for Born in East LA
i don't want to watch anything
esp. not comedy
too tired
i keep smoking
i want to sleep or get drunk then
i don't even want to get drunk, im too tired
i don't even want to think about motels
even these stupid pills aren't working
that quack ill have him clubbed
in the knee
my therapist is a fuckin marriage counselor, how the hell's am i supposed to explain playtime to him?
aa's boring, i can't sit still
i had a good dinner
i only went in cause i felt bad for the owner
there was no one there
dickless yelpsters
im a wonderful person
give me the belt
the wwf belt
funny choice of words
dickless, not belt
prolly think its suicide
like, Lou, where's your belt?
why? rather just playtime
think im setting myself up
i was in one of my best moods today
like of all time
i thought god was in everyone
that we are all one
the good in people
even assholes don't know they're capable of it
my heartfelt speech
get a good tear drip
i like spite, and if someone resents you even jucier
resenting someone because you think he resents you, faggedabodid
he's gelus! the villain
better check my stats
it's been a few minutes
im out of cigarettes
heres a poem about cigarettes
i put it on my fb
im back on fb
already its making me more neurotic
when friends of friends post broad affirmations of self-actualization, or i stumble upon posts deriding selfseeking
i comment asking if that's about me
fuck the poem
ill just say not click and copy paste
you ready? ok go
umm
every true smoker knows that a cigarette is but a natural extension of your arm.
umm. every no i said that the next line—it was a joke poem—every
umm
with amber ashes
the ridges on your fingers
like a ballerina curling gracefully through your skin
and the package
faggedabodid: it's wholly you
marlboro black
for when you take a good shit.
got no feedback
they're too busy posting their shit
feedback? what a bullshit cop-out
i even get angry at people for posting photos of themselves on their pages
why aren't you posting photos of me!
even strangers, especially strangers.
i bettet delete this girl
she posts too many links about shit not about me, news stories political ones not about me
her activity keeps me from viewing my postings a few moments longer
better delete this guy too
...he doesn't look like me
hey-yooooo!
johnny carson
i smoke marlboro black now
because i thought they had made it in honor of me.
i really did, no joke.
like a limited time edition in hollywood
i was high
im a better psychologist
than people trying to pyschologise me
im better than all my friends
thats why they ignore me
i have no friends
they resent me cause im such a kickass writer
that's why they don't read any of em
they're too busy working
why the fuck would i take any interest in their shit?
im too busy writing
if i ever get any recognition
ill have a stroke
a stroke from cockiness
outside ill be humble, probably even crying, and ill prolly mean it
but inside ill have a stroke
i'll explode
they all want to steal my poems
that's why they're ignoring me
they're all secretly conspiring
they do huddles like football players
oh right, throwball
they're going to sneak into my room and steal my trousers
and give it to her husband
my grandpa used to say that about his in-laws when he went senile and cuckoo
How is relapse built? Sleepless fuckin nights. The mind won't shut off, and worn down it becomes susceptible much like the body to a cold. A quick impulse, craving, don't forget the em dash, the sensations of a memory seep in, and what is merely familiar becomes romantic. The kind of romance that'll eat love, if they are apart too long. A cigarette. They say read the big book, it'll put you right to sleep. You know how I feel about reading. You want to eat mechanically; you've dried out all the food groups, sugar even
i get a high from every single post I make
this is not a wasteland
i love you
this is a wilderness
Three strikes and you're out, Rocky.
How you guys came up with "playtime," I'm in awe. Absolute lifesaver. Thank you. Thanks for the other night too, lighting up Hollywood with those colors and such. I wish I could have taken pictures.
He's not a movie star, Now he has to go deal with mom and dad.
You got me again.
This library. Not Jack in the Box. Not the colors, not the actors.
I'm your actor. My nature works to perfection with your—This guy scratched his dick then licked his finger, then he scratched his thigh and the guy next to him stared at him. When it was another man's turn to use the computer, he let me go ahead of him. One guy was trying to type up his lyrics. One man looked up head lice. Headbands and dreadlocks. This is reality, not black guys praising me. This library is beautiful on the outside. The inside people have to work for it.
I'm a tourist The only sovineur I deserve is the In Touch.
At least I got to feel what it would be like.
I'm still sychzophrenic. And you guys didn't hurt my feelings. Don't show any footage of me dancing on my blog. That was really cool. Best night of my life.
Nothing's going my way today. All my jokes are miss. A girl's friend and coworker was recently fired, and I said what happened, fight over the same guy? And they had. I tried to hit on a woman so I sat myself down at her table and asked her how are you? I didn't know what direction to take my pitch so I asked her how are you three more times and she asked me if I was retarded. I spotted a little kid at a nearby table staring at me so I made a movement with my head and body like I was about to sock him. Just then another woman walked past and I turned my head and told her I love you and she didn't even say I love you back. then the original woman called security on me. She was gelus, and I said, You old dog, you still got it.
these diet sodas will be the death of me
Ah, the Motel, where it all began. Right across the street from the mental health center. Oh, the dangers of romanticizing, of standing outside the building, where they told me my best option was to kill myself. It was so wonderful. I missed them. I love it when they make fun of me; I start blushing. It's hard to say goodbye, and I don't want to be ungrateful, but will my memory say bye-bye? It had probably been in the works for some time—I thought I heard some people speaking code outside another motel some weeks earlier—but I didn't catch it. A helicopter had been following me around for a couple days. They only come out after awhile. Probably when they think I'm about to start dying. So I'm supposed to worry about living healthy but I'm more concerned about looking good. My resentments—arguing with others in my mind based on what I think they think of me—are starting to rear their spiteful head. Does that sound right? How can something rear its ugly head? Maybe it means I'm thinking ass backwards right now. Well of course I would be! I can't be thinking ass frontwards now, can I? Wanker.
Feels like a LOTR Trilogy day.
...Nevermind. Owe the library ten bucks. I'm not going to pay ten bucks to see a movie. Lots of eggs would be on my face. Besides, late fees are unconstitutional.
- But if you pay the amount owed, you can continue renting a plethora of great selections.
- I've had it with your nonsensical ravings and whimiscal flights of fancy. What the hell's a plethora?
- An armful of DVDs, for free. Imagine that.
- Explain yourself!
- If you pay the amount owed—
- But I don't want to.
- ...you can rent as many DVDs as you can fit in your bag
- And I suppose I have to pay for the bag? You cunt.
- Please don't call me that. You can rent as many DVDs as you can fit in your hands.
- A man's hands, you can bet.
- In your hands or handsome burly arms.
- Well why didn't you just out and come with it, toiling around the edges like a fairy on a sailboat. What the hell's a plethora?
- It is something you can hold in your arms.
- Well, then why didn't you come out with it? You ought to blow me when I feel like it.
- I tried to explain it to you.
- I ought to put the bag over your head and choke you while I—Come on, let's go to your bank account.
- I don't have but ten dollars, I'm sorry. I do the best I can with—
- That's okay you have more than I need. And you can make up for the rest by...ah, jeez, he off and went and killed himself. The cunt fairy. I ought to put the bag over his head and real quick before the cops come...ah...ah...ek!...oh! Egg on his face, cunt bitch.
- I'm back.
- Huh, what?
- Grabbed a tuna sandwich from the donut shop round the corner. $3.75 on wheat. Can't beat it.
- I thought you off and went and snuffed it?
- Doesn't sound like me.
- Then who's this?!
- Oh, that's just your imagination. Turns out, I was just hungry.
- Egg on my face!
- I'm laughing: ha ha ha ha! Asians make the best sandwiches. Everybody knows that. Everybody.
- I understand and follow you clearly.
- I told that guy no mayo. That sandwich tasted too good for No Mayo.
- Do you want me to go get my bag?
- Yea, we got some choking to do.
- Should we hold hands?
- Not while we're choking him.
- Right, then he might not take us so seriously.
- Yea, we don't want him laughing at us while we try to kill him. Very undermining.
- Who wants to die laughing?
tired, hungry, angry, irritable
Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired...I was way off!
When he hurt my feelings, I kicked him out of my house. He laughed, but I was insistent, so he walked out and I shut the door on him. I looked out through the window by the door—he was smiling uncomfortably. When he caught me staring at him, I shut my blinds. But then it was dark in the room, so I opened the blinds, and looked out at him again.
One time, I saw a homeless man with a sign that simply read, "I need to eat."
I got angry or hurt when a friend said today that homelessness is simply an issue of will power. Maybe it is, I don't know.
There was a young man yesterday, with a sign that said, "Navy Vet. Trying to get back home to Chicago." A part of me thought, that's pretty clever.
My heart's broken and mended
14, 15, 36 times a day.
I don't get how I can be so blue
about my existence but laugh so often.
I don't get how I can be so sociable
with strangers but so anti-social.
I should prolly shave.
I don't do the scruffy look anymore
Someone told me women really go after burly men,
that who wants someone who is prettier than she is,
and if that's the case, then the theory holds that she has lesbian tendencies.
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