Exposure

                It’s as if tablets of empty meaning are meant to be set loose within your skin, well, they’ve never got any place to go in my blood stream. There’s no place for resting anywhere within me, beneath my skin especially. The prolonged days sit on the shelf with yesterday and two days ago and the day before that, where tomorrow will soon be welcomed. The sun uses its reflective power to irritate me. The light from the empty silver cans shone through my retinas, tearing through them, scalding, or maybe I only wish they’d do so. Wearing nails that don’t belong to me, lagging around these arms that purely dangle from my sides with no excuse, they’ve nowhere to be, no place to belong nor exist. Their prominent curiosity I could consciously not care less about. It’s as if none of it belongs to me, attached to my person or not. Foreign, domesticated yet untamed to me, to my mind. If you can’t seem to find familiarity in your own skin, where the hell are you supposed to look? It’s all bundled up into a ball, floating back and forth, to and fro, in an infinite abyss that you, yourself had named; where your senses can’t seem to find, where they can’t seem to sense. Wandering little mind, puny fucking mind, elsewhere and nowhere. Wondering mind, think all the time, you think of today’s scene. You get your daily dose of mediocrity. Realize that’s all your life will ever come to be, if that, you’ve got to find familiarity first, somewhere to be, someone to care, some place where they all won’t just let you wander away on your own two silly little feet, which may not even be your own.

Foreign feeling not so foreign, but completely uncomfortable within my flesh, trickling it’s way toward my nerves, causing chaotic ruptures of irrational or highly rational emotion. Never sure which way, what way, if there’s any way at all. It’s all become a log of some sorts, write, write, write, never understand. Never see, never look. Not even sure where this is going. Feeling that isn’t sure what it stands for, feeling that lives to swat at things, the way you’d target a fly. Feeling that wants to cause pain…

I can’t even remember. I can’t even see…it’s all in my head but when  I sit down…nothing.

Nothing.

I had a whole spiel, beautiful in mind.

Where is my conscious, I want to do this. I I I I I I I I I I I i.

Eye

They both do nothing anyhow.

Do you think this could get me anywhere? No. I am wasting it. Wasting it all, and this little log here, this log knows me best. This piece of something hated by me…

It knows me, and that’s all there is. Horrible for unknown, irrational reasons, but then again..

Can never be aware of anything, acceptance doesn’t lie in groups. I want it I want it I want it.

B u

Bee

YEW.

FUCK YOU, BAILEY, FOR NOT KNOWING OR REMEMBERING ANYTHING YOU PATHETIC, WASTEFUL PIECE OF SHIT.

My mind isn’t going to be in the gutter metaphorically now, but literally…if I don’t do anything, and all you are is a waste of my time, just as everything else around me is a waste of my time, just as this hand..is a waste, this paper…….not even paper anymore.

How about- “hey you!!!”, if you don’t want to fucking feel this way, then don’t feel this way.

“but I do…I do..but..”

“no excuses, goddamnit..you can’t be in between, yes or no…no…yes..”

There’s this phase where all you want is to be happy. But I don’t. or I do. I do. But I don’t or I can’t. but I can. But myself tells my other self no. “no no no nono nooNO”, she says, “you embrace misery, you do, you know why? You deserve nothing more, nothing because as all you do is cause misery..”

“but why do I do this..? why do I cause it?”

“who the hell knows, cares, but you do. You do it because you’re nothing but a worthless pile of bullshit wrapped in some clothes, given some interests, there you have it, a perfect disguise. You’re nothing abnormal in a good way, only in the most horrid of ways.”

“but if I care about this, if I care about being horrid to others, to these people whom I surround myself with, who I live amongst, if I care about their feelings towards me, your feelings towards me, doesn’t that make me worse off than I thought I was…doesn’t that go against all I know I feel and stand for?”

“ I thought I told you already, pile of worthlessness wrapped up in some clothes….”

Tears

Or

Fears

Or

Breathing..

 Don’t capitalize my fucking letters for me, sonofabitch, you.  Iwantsmallletters.

And you still did it……but nothing that I want is wantable. These wants are all lying to me…I only want them now. Not tomorrow…make

No sense.

                                             ever

I can’t help but to think that the relationship between you and your father, you and your mother, those relationships dictate every relationship you’re ever going to have, they’ll be the guidelines and they’ll set the boundaries. There’s never a real place to go or to hide.

Ineverhatedyousomuch

Thenagain,thereisnoyoutobeginwith.