it gets a little hazy from here

i stand in dirty bathtubs
there are ten pints of blood
in the human body
he's lying on top of the lockers
what if he sees me
close the shower curtain
don't let the cops in
he's a big guy
how did he get here?
how did he get me?
my wrists are free
and why, fucking why
i should be terrified
but all i feel is the drugs,
and my insides have turned to sludge
i don't know where i am
so i cling to the shower curtain
and watch the door
and when it swings in
i see the sunlight on the floor
i just want to sleep, throw up,
something but
i can't lie down, there's
not enough room in the tub
so i cling to the shower curtain
i can barely stand
my friend is dead
i can't think how
can i make her alive again

今天晚上她要去看谁？ 今天晚上她要去看谁？

depuis que tu as sauté dans la seine,
je voulais t'appeler ma reine.
je sais que tu es catherine,
mais suis-je jules ou suis-je jim?

he was a big guy. i fucked up. so he killed my friend. i don't know how he got his hands on me.

I need to move past all my wrong decisions.
but I'm stuck in the military sense of mind
of "leave no man behind." not even the bad parts of them.
So I go back, even if it means using the good parts
like a helmet on the stick,
and it's a crying shame but
not one I'll be crying about.

I'm stuck in the basements of horrible dreams.
these days my friends' eyes pass right over me.

and these days I'm so scared of the cold.
tell me, when will the winter end?
when will it be summer again?
when will I stop needing a friend?

"at six miles up you will explode. at sea level you will be drowned. beneath the surface the monster will have you."

i had cassandra in my room.
she was way past drunk.
could hardly stand up.
she slipped out of her dress and told me
to sit down.
i smiled and asked her why and she said
"because that's how it happens."
her dress was red on the floor.
then she began to weep. spilled her wine.
i sat next to her. asked her what was wrong.
she said "why don't you believe me?"
my fingertips were resting on her back.
i told her i didn't understand.
"god damn," she said. "god damn."

"you still cross my mind from time to time, and i mostly smile, still so set on finding out where we went wrong, and why..."

i went to a funeral today.
i was the only one there,
hundreds of feet above the crashing waves,
breathing grains of air.
the cliffs are no whiter than my reveries,
no blacker than my memories.
i look down and ask questions of the sharp rocks.
because there's nothing in the pine box
and no ashes in the urn.
i wanted to sing the eulogy
but there are no words, no, there are no words to say
over a dead anniversary

the noir writer

i can't go outside.
the second i step out the door,
lay my eyes on the things that are real,
i'm hit with it.
vicarious paranoia
the little blonde girl on the corner
and the trunk of a car.
the man with a torn coat
and the gun store down the block.
the hobo sitting against the wall
and the blithe brutality of highschoolers.

i hear the music in the background.
fantaisie in the key of schizophrenia.
i'm solving cases that i invent,
right inside my head,
and it's too fucking much

i need a computer screen
a constancy
a place to capture my concentration with a bear trap
pull its mangled leg free, nail its wrists and ankles
to the blank page in front of me.
let its blood drip onto my keyboard.

i see murders in everything.
i see guilt in every passing man
fear in every woman who crosses her arms
and i see murders,
ones that haven't happened,
ones that will never happen
not yet

introduction to how much of a jackass i am

today i'm a makeshift version of me
with not enough knowledge and not enough sleep
i whittle my back down and make bad decisions
with unfailing strength and unnerving precision

fuckin road trip

three full and crucial years have passed
but now i'm being forced off the wagon
and into relapse.
i thought it took time to build and rebuild.
why are you handing me your guilt?
the pieces you give me — they're pure. they shine.
but my guilt is dirty because it's entirely mine.
don't tell me the last three years didn't matter.
that all you really need is six weeks
and a couple of common interests.
look through the last three years
at the people i found.
don't think for a second i'm ready to put them underground.


here i am, the elephant in the driver's seat
i've got no room to move and i have to keep my eyes on the road

i was right. fuck, i was right.

these days all i see is carbon and lead
and there's no room for a child inside my head
my hair is all wet and my shirt is torn and
what would it be like if i still wasn't born

these days the air is always too heavy
and when i try to move on it just won't let me
and i can't lift my knees up off the ground
and i could really use a friend right now

"so strange" by the motel life is one of the most beautiful songs i've ever heard. http://www.myspace.com/themotellife

i think we both built it up too much
hoping truth would be something wonderful
and finding out that it was just immediate.
no delay between our feelings and our words.
no interval between when i fall
and when my knees hit the carpet.
there was a pause right before the door slammed
but it was just long enough for me to say.

now the city buses are just empty enough
and the friends i've left behind
keep leaving me behind. and i've heard
that this world is just too beautiful
for anyone to understand
but i've seen the shades and the scratches and the spots.
and i understand.

it hasn't changed in five whole years.
the door is still about to slam.
but it's waiting just long enough for me to say.
i'm sitting in stasis and dying on the floor.
didn't you know?
this world was made for you.
these words were made for you.
i was made for you.

there was a pause right before the door slammed
when you bit your tongue
but it was just long enough for me to say:
"don't you realize that all of us leave something behind?
we're not going to see each other again.
don't you realize?
i am lost with you."

hurr durrr

i was going to post something but then it was kind of scary so i decided that might not be a good idea. uhh the point of this is that this post is a reminder to myself to write something. yeah.