talking to myself
2004-01-07 ~ 11:40 p.m.

i called it a crisis of faith for lack of any better words...

but it just another crisis in self.

same shit, different day.

anniversaries...

of death and life and death...

and i have to wonder why, some days...most days...

anyone would want to leave the house.

i tend to conclude that they are stronger than me most days. or more stupid. or reckless. or maybe they just don't fucking feel haunted or chased all the time.

i don't pretend to know that.

that lack of knowledge chews me up inside.

because i can't identify it.

i need to identify everything...every little thing.

playing pictures over and over in my mind in carla's own little theater.

always looking...

again, self...

again i ask you.

what the fuck are you waiting for?

...previously... ~ ...next...