for i cannot find the words to say...
dead ends. that's my life. slamming into the walls. black holes. tunnels without lights at the end. $70 and a need for gasoline, quizno's veggie subs and an acrylic refill on my nails.
i used to be tan and happy. i can see the spark in old pictures. i used to wear orange and wear my hair in red-tinted waves.
these days, i can't seem to muster up the will to care. although i do still apply my odd combination of wrinkle cream and clearisil nightly.
i hate wasted time and wasted years. but i collect them.
shirazshirazshiraz. yep, it's another one of THOSE entries. remember when that used to mean happy burblng?
how am i supposed to have infinite patience? it's supposed to rain tomorrow. mingle that with the melting snow, and perhaps we have that flood, similar to ... 1994? the exact year escapes me. i caulked the basement though, and saved our home from a washout.
fuck it all. i want to get high. i want to get so high; i want to get happy, however artificially, and forget it all. i want to dance recklessly until dawn. i want to pack my car and leave. but yet, i want to find a home. the only option, when trapped like this: i want to forget existence.
a life of compromise and contradiction. i have my own timeline of goals that i know i will disregard when the expiration date arrives. and i'll sit. just. there.
maybe i'll be remembered as the friendly drunken poet. maybe i won't be remembered at all. i look at the filtered plasticky reminders, and swear to god that it's not me. i wasn't, i'm not, and never will be that brilliant glowing star. the dedications of poetry mean nothing.
my specialty is sentimental notions. that will never change. even if they're bounced back at me, and mocking me. stupid emo bitch.
posted by: less-than3
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