defend

i want to not have to take medication anymore
which is why i'm going back on my meds.










THE CIRCLE OF LIFE.

what you get

just cried because i lost a game of solitaire
yep, you betcha

because here's the thing, ladies the gents:
the real deal, sans sucre:

the only time you should start up on the pills is when you really, really need them.
and how do you know when that is?
well, if you think you need them, you're wrong.
and if you aren't sure, then you need them.

and it's a lot simpler than it sounds, because trust me when i say
that you don't know what the fuck is right for yourself.
so whatever you think - do the opposite.

if you knew what was right for yourself,
you wouldn't be in this fucking hole to begin with.

now can i please win a fucking game of solitaire
so i can go to bed?
fuck.

old skin

for when you can only half be heard over the noise in the background
and only half be heard over the noise in your head

and it's not that i think that other people are too busy with their own problems
to notice mine

no no
my problems are my problems
don't you try to take them away from me
(you can't)

it's just that sometimes
it feels like
the reason other people seem so occupied with their own problems when they're around me
is that i am one of their problems

(i love walking home alone in the middle of the night
passing your old home, and crying by yourself
because you know that your family is asleep without you
and if you got killed
nobody would know)

THE BEAUTY OF SUMMERTIME

the snack that smiles back

stop that, no
don't you put that in your mouth
that is clearly neither a muffin, nor a beet
and you are clearly not listening to the life lesson this commercial
is sharing with you

stop it, don't do that
don't swallow that thing whole
don't bite it either, mind you
just don't

i like you plain.
without seasoning.
just you.

i hate it here

the only thing that makes me happy is the kitchen table in a green dining room
in a house whose doors are never locked
and whose belongings and occupants are strewn about the place
like they know that they belong
wherever they choose to belong

in all the crevices they want to hide in,
they are always welcome.

i love my kitten more than anything in the world
which is why i have to give her away.
(that and the fact that my landlord wants her gone by august 1st)

great.

i'm so tired of lying through my teeth and telling people i will miss them
when i inevitably will not

i have the memory of a goldfish

but i am a siamese fighting fish, in reality
i just want to kill all the others like me
and even those who are completely different

but most of all, i want to kill myself
like when i put the mirror beside rainbow's bowl when i was little
and he attacked his reflection until he was dead
fishy blood in the water of the bowl
from having smashed his fishy skull in
on the glass

rifp
(rest in fishy peace)

i just want to hear some bones break
and a voice cry out in pain
(one that is not my own, for once)

i'm so sick of being part of a tree with no branches.














FUCK.

pawn

again and again and again and again
do it again, do it again
it's a shame, it's a shame
it's a stupid shame
it's stupid how we always seem to do it again, oh no
again, again, again

yep, you betchaaa
i have to pee a lot more often than usual lately.
(enjoy that one, internet)

i'm like crumbs on a fat kid
i'm on a rollllll

ouija

"is the reason that you can't finish the sentence because i already know what it is?"
... yes.

oh, marilyn.

murder mysteries are only fun while the mystery lasts
and when antonio telastori ruins the punchline, well
i guess it's time to hide in the basement
and try to scare your friends.

maybe you should not always blame yourself for making your mnmnmnmnmnmnmn.
(ouija translation: mnmnmnmnmnmnmn - "mother cry".)

post script

sweet ass invisible blues guitar solo!

i left a box of cookies and a chunk of cheese sitting on my desk for a week
need i say more? no. no, i need not say more.

just picture it.

yeah.

ew.

why am i awake

(why am i alive)
((but not in the morbid, suicidal sense))
(((more in the "ha ha, this fits well grammatically" sense)))
((((read "grammatically" as "dramatically"))))

ENOUGH WITH THE BRACKETS ALREADY, OY VEYYY

every time i try to do an italian accent
i end up sounding jewish,
or like i'm some broad from new jersey
aka, nu joisey

ya get me?
ya got me?
good.

i'm up at 5am without sleeping at all
and tonight i'm going to murder or be murdered
while eating pasta and pretending to be
a little italian bootabelly broad
with the hots for her uncle,
4 times removed or some shit like that

BUT HEY
SLEEP IS FOR THE WEEK

HA

HA

HA

germmm

101: teach me how to speak
a language everyone can understand
a universal language
that will never, ever be considered gibberish
in the eyes of anyone
ever

102: teach me how to speak
some sense into myself
so i stop asking for the impossible
and start looking towards
the possible
the probable
the certain

i can't, i can't, i can't, i can't, i

103: teach me how to speak

104: teach me how to speak

105: teach me how to speak

everything is temporary.

this has been my mantra lately.

my roommate (the one i share a hate-hate relationship with) left a note out in the kitchen that can only be categorized as:
mean.

i can't (under)stand him.

i cried to my dad on the phone last night,
and he reminded me how far behind i am, by all measures
except the ones that matter.

i am younger, and by all means i should be given a handicap if we want to talk comparisons,
but i already have the advantage.

i hate to admit it, but i really hope that someday he has some real problems,
so he can look back on his behavior now and know what a lucky idiot he is.
but that's not the way the world works.
(and i'm glad it's not, really)

a friend who proved to be wiser than i once thought said to me,
"i never want to be the bad part of someone's day."
and i love that. and i try to be like that too.

just sometime i forget that there are people out there
who couldn't give a fucking shit about your day,
and whether or not they are the catalyst in the end of your world.

(sometimes something small,
like a mean note in my kitchen,
feels like the world is crashing down
on my head.)