A Word A Day Keeps the Dr. Away: We're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing.

2/12/11

We're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing.

"We're all going to die, all of us, what a circus! That alone should make us love each other but it doesn't. We are terrorized and flattened by trivialities, we are eaten up by nothing": lucid and beautiful quote by Charles Bukowski

"You built up that wall around you, And now you can't see out, And now you can't hear my words, No matter how loud I shout, It's like screaming at a wall, Someday it's gonna fall": two words- Minor, Threat.

just when I finally think that maybe I've begun to heal, you come along and back to square one. please, tell me what to do. I'm at a loss for ideas. Frustrated, I've decided to write out all the things I could possibly say on little pieces of notebook paper, mix them up, pick one out of a hat, and go with whatever it says.

I could say:
silence.
who is this/gee wonder who this could be?
no, you are mistaken. I asked if I should delete your number, and you replied,"I already deleted yours days ago."
this is suspicious.
am I imagining things?
fuck. you.
is this a trap?
woah, must be one boring Friday night.
did your x-box break?
did you run out of adderall?
PTSD acting up again?
(I deleted this one because it's too caustic)
hold that thought. I'll be in Boise in March, if you still feel like you want to "say hi," text me then (this way I can punch him in person)
what do you want from me? honestly.

There are so many people in my life that are going to be pissed off that I'm even giving this any thought. Oh what to do.

Update 10:32am: picked one, typed a text even. It's sitting on my phone, ready to go and has been for about 35 minutes now. I'm having the hardest time pressing send.

Update 10:33am: sent it. there's something evil lurking in the pit of stomach. I think I'm going to puke.

Update 2/13/11: I just want my heart back. What the fuck does "start talking again" mean? Oh wait, that means you want me in your life on your terms. Once again, I hate to admit it, but I'm not strong enough to do that.

Update 2/13/11 3pm: :'(

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Eat My Words

I was once prescribed to keep a journal. I was told, write anything down- mundane occurrences, incoherent thoughts, complete nonsense- ramble on and on if I must. I did such and quickly found "what a power there is in words; later for those who hear them, but first for the one who finds them; a healing power, a solution, like the breaking of a barrier" [ayn rand]. I learned that "it helps to write it down even if you then cross it out" [nada surf]. I mean, think about it...most great authors wrote from a place of pain, their words laden with suffering, but through this inked art form I would like to think that a shred of health and sanity was salvaged just by sharing their words. and to that I dedicate this blog.