Saturday, May 11, 2002

cry.

little dog shakes in the corner,
beaten by
a tree branch.
nose bleeds,
paw torn
short pants
vomit
in the shade.

thrown apple rots in the rib
and vision blurs behind
the iodine sponge
in your eyes.

"speak."
"speak."
"speak...."
speak?

just a frail whine,
gasp between lungs.

collapse.

Monday, May 06, 2002

a burned figure.

i have this horrible feeling that i could lose everyone.

i don't know why.

i just feel it in my chest.

maybe i shouldn't consume so much caffeine. i'm so shaky and nervous i can't stop repeating the same pointless things (eg, checking the same internet bulletin board over and over and over again).

Thursday, May 02, 2002

heroin.

people are just shells. pieces of skin that quiver and get racked with pain for a length of time until they stop working. this wouldn't be such a problem if the shells didn't get filled up with personalities. unfortunately, the finite boundaries of bodies get to enclose something that doesn't want to be constrained that way.

which is why i now advocate heroin usage. for everyone. normally, we're subject to emotional needs that make life unbearable. you think you need things like friends, lovers, entertainment, sex, and belonging. get addicted to smack. i'm serious. that shit won't matter to you anymore. you'll have one need and one need only. it's the perfect objet.

friendship? keep chasing it. i think we all know how elusive that is. even when you think you have it, there's always something missing.

but shoot up? oh yeah. it's all there. sure, you may need to take more and more as time goes on... but that's okay too. just keep drowning in that mess of heroin dreams. you'll stop caring about the rest of the shit in the world. they can strap you up in chains, but you're still free when you've got your drug. more and more and more and more until you OD

and die.

but that doesn't matter. because nothing matters anymore. what a great way to end it all. makes me excited just thinking about it. that's when you're really free... when no one can touch you or drag you down.

I don't know just where I'm going,
But I'm gonna try for the kingdom, if I can,
'Cause it makes me feel like I'm a man.
When I put a spike into my vein,
And I'll tell you things aren't quite the same.
When I'm rushing on my run,
And I feel just like Jesus' son.
And I guess that I just don't know,
And I guess that I just don't know...

I have made the big decision:
I'm gonna try to nullify my life,
'Cause when the blood begins to flow,
When it shoots up the dropper's neck.
When I'm closing in on death,
And you can't help me, not you guys,
And all you sweet girls with all your sweet talk,
You can all go take a walk.
And I guess that I just don't know,
And I guess that I just don't know...

I wish that I was born a thousand years ago,
I wish that I'd sail the darkened seas,
On a great big clipper ship,
Going from this land here to that,
In a sailor's suit and cap.
Away from the big city,
Where one can not be free.
Of all of the evils of this town,
And of oneself, and those around.
And I guess that I just don't know,
And I guess that I just don't know...

Heroin, be the death of me,
Heroin, it's my wife and it's my life.
Because a mainer to my vein,
Leads to a center in my head,
And then I'm better off and dead.
Because when the smack begins to flow,
I really don't care anymore,
About all the Jim-Jim's in this town,
And all the politicians makin' crazy sounds,
And everybody puttin' everybody else down,
And all the dead bodies piled up in mounds.
'Cause when the smack begins to flow,
Then I really DON'T CARE ANYMORE!
Ah when the heroin is in my blood,
And that blood is in my head,
Man thank God I'm as good as dead,
And thank your God that I'm not aware,
And thank God that I just don't care,
And I guess I just don't know,
Oh and I guess I just don't know...

something must break now.

i am a dangerous person to society. i don't understand why anyone would ever trust their children with me. well... i guess people used to do that because they didn't know who i really was. i played a good role and they all thought i was safe.

not anymore.

but you know what's really sad? i probably do awful things to other people as a backlash against the "good" image that i and others have constructed for myself. the image of me as a good, pious student is just a fantasy screen that covers up the brutal reality of what i am. i haven't been stable or socially agreeable for years. but i keep smiling and telling everyone that i'm an upstanding citizen. every once in a while it surfaces and transgresses the phantasmatic frame and people get hurt real bad. sure, i got 5s on a bunch of AP tests. i somehow got onto the B team of a competitive debate team at a big university far away.

and then i turned around and shocked everyone by commiting a felony. great.

and now they want to force me back to the way i used to be. they want me to be docile. 8 PM curfew. can't see friends. have to pay ludicrous amounts of money to the state (amounts that i never even approached damage-wise). have to put on a mask again and pretend i'm a good kid. whenever anyone asks about political opinions, i have to lay low. no more outspoken radical opinions. i have to be obedient again.

think it'll work this time? sure as hell didn't work last time.

i tell you... the social network i'm in is probably playing with matches. i don't intend to do anything illegal ever again... it'll be more subtle next time. but it'll probably be ten times as destructive to me and the people around me.

ever light up a molotov cocktail, but instead of throwing it against the ground, just let it sit? the pressure builds and builds until eventually it can't be kept in anymore. it just explodes where it's sitting. anyone who's nearbye gets hurt really really bad.

keep hammering me in. we'll see who gets jacked up in the end. not even nuclear bombs can stop the five knuckle shuffle.