. . .

I don't know what I'm doing anymore
I wish I could just end this right here and now
Aren't you just so unbearably sad,
so unimaginably lonely?
My favourite line I've ever read was this;
"everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt"
I wish it were true.
But I seem to find myself thinking the opposite.
"nothing was beautiful, and everything hurt"
I wish there were someone left to read this.
I don't know what I'm saying anymore.
I love you.
I hate you.
Who are you?
I don't know who you are.
I've forgotten you're face.
I want to know,
Aren't you just so unbearably sad?
Please tell me
I'm not alone.

||| ||| |||

Everything I do, I do for a reason,
because I am not human.
I am a machine. A simple machine.
More simple than a pulley, lever, or a wedge.
The simplest machine there is,
but also them most inefficient,
because everything I do
turns out wrong in the end.
But what happens when
the batteries die,
the blood stops running,
and the pistons stop pumping?
Maybe that's what this machine was built for,
not beginnings, but endings.

+++

Lately I've been feeling a bit
normal
which doesn't say much.
But I've been a bit
manic
and can't bite my tongue.

Lately I've been losing my faith in
humanity
not that I've had much anyway.
But when I see these men so hellbent on
fucking
and the women who allow it,
I feel a bit
sick
and wonder where the world is going.

I don't know where this is going,
I've just been want to say
peoples' constant fixation on copulation
is fucking disgusting.

[] [] []

Every time I hit the bottom
I think, "this is the lowest I've ever been"
Then the floor drops out from beneath me
And I fall even further down
In two months I'll be leaving my good friends
In five the best will be leaving me
Then it really will be me all alone
In this hole with no floor

{ { {

That's it
I'm done
I thought it could get better
I was wrong
I don't know what I'm going to do
I wish I could just drive until I'm gone
But I'll still be here

// // //

Paul called me and told me he was worried about me.
He said I'm not acting like myself, and he asked if I needed to talk.
That makes me sad,
and it makes things worse.
I'm on the verge of something,
and I don't think I'm ever going to be the same again.
My friends are going to stop waiting for me to come back.
They'll get sick of hearing my silence and they'll leave me.
I don't know what to do.
Things can't go back to the way they were before,
but if they keep going the way they are now I'll never be happy.
I may have been let down by the people I love,
but I can never let down the people who love me.

..'..

I've been trying to write, but I always stop myself before I post.

Hopefully I'll do something good enough for myself soon.

But anything I do post isn't really writing.

They're just my thoughts in text.

Lastly, I think everyone

should listen

to some

Low.





Then everyone would be cool.