yeah, so i am still sitting here. have no fucking idea what i have been doing.

poured out chocolate milk, shaking head in amusement/

emptied ashtray overflowing with gray/white

thought about the struggle/laughed outloud

got in on another line/more to turn to mush

think i should apologize to the keyboard for using it the way i do.

i want to curl up against someone real and watch movies on days like today.

instead of sitting here, feeling the urge to bolt/run free/let the tires hit the pavement and crash thru another door/making it easier to breathe.

nine inch nails is still playing...the same three songs for two hours. i am thinking of leaving/staying/drowning/running

deleting spam...that is something to do. call and say there is no software...that is something else to do. take more of those pills and sleep a while...later i guess.

replace nine inch nails with portishead and keep writing anywhere but here.

sick of writing here and deleting more than i ever write...don't ask why

i am different than that/don't do things that way/can't feel that way/can't take those things/shelves are crowded/nowhere to put them/stop saying that/you don't mean it/wish you did/didn't bleed to see the blood/didn't hurt to make it real/didn't drown to vanish/make it all numb/can't sit here like this/shrouded by silence/pale yellow silence/creaking/nothing left of last night/last month/last year/that other life/save distraction/crave it like nicotine and that other/seek it out tonight/i'll be organizing/corporate re-org/makes me cringe/do it anyway

fuck you man, where do you get off? i want to avoid that stop. if you really knew as much as your diplomas and dilemnas claim then you would understand distraction keeps me breathing. it all makes me want to laugh/cry/suck it up and die

going back in my shell now/like it here/it's nice

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