subtlemethod's posterous

i can't slep/ this place is terrible. this is the moment in which i feel the need to mother my mother. i feel the need to sit her down and be blunt, brutal even. i want her to get cleaned up.

why is the focus on my mother? someone asked me that, once, and i think it's because she seems the most fragile of the tw. they're both fucked up.

i failed conn. i really did. me and thor botth. what could we have done? how could i have left him in that fucking house, with them? how could i have done that? how unfair for him. now we're all damaged. now we're all going to be talking to therapists well into out adulthood.

i know they will die. there is no longer an if. it's a when. when will something terrible happen here? when will i be red eyed on a flight back here? when will i wonder what i could have done? i know what i can do. i cann't do it. i feel anger for the cowardice of others, yet i display my own.

it doesn't matter what they say. this wil be my fault.

the worst part is that mom wanrs out. she wants out and dad is so blind he can't even see the box he's in. this is hell.

it will be cancer or sicide or some other malign sickness and i will hate myself.

Here we go. Again.

Isolation.

This is what I've come to.

Like an addict.

So fucked up on my own melodrama. My own sorrow.

So fucked up I've just decided to give it all up.

To let friends and family fall from my hands,

the tiny fistfuls I'd always clung to tumbling,

falling down. Wishing I was other wheres.

Dreams of cities and wet streets.

Fall leaves and walking.

Maybe in some universe where different choices were made.

Maybe I'd already be there.

Seven stangnant voicemails.

An lack of desire for sleep.

An inability to connect on any basic level

any more. Self loathing. Abject hatred of daily activities.

Welcome to depression.

God help me, but fuck the holidays this year.

I want no part in this nonsense. No part in the 

unhappy family. No part in the problems of others.

I want to hibernate in my bubble of anger and sadness.

I want to pretend there are no other people in this world.

Or, if there must be, that they are mannequins. Faceless

members of the Me Show. Props for me to play off of.

No joys to be jealous of. No sorrow to be burdened with.

Blank

Can we pretend?

Goddamn it.

SO, we;re back to the bullshit, back to this nonsense of feeling sorry for myself. I don't even want to talk about it. I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to do anything. I just want to work and survive this year without fucking everything up that badly. I want to not have to work all the time. I want to not suck at my life. I mean, my sex drive is gone, I don't have fun, I feel like the best days are over. I shouldn't feel like that.

god, i suck

Apparently, I'm not cool enough for like, anyone. Get me the fuck out of Vegas. Right. Now.

The more I think about it, the more I become convinced that I have no idea what I'm doing or what I want.

The more I think about it, the more convinced i become that things were never supposed to be like this,

but then, I'm not sure what they were supposed to be like, period. This whole thing, I think, began as an experiment three years ago. And when I revisit that, the more truthful and prophetic my words seem.

It IS a new world, full of things and people I never thought, in a million years, I would have been touched by. 

I'm going to be 25 in less than a month. A quarter of a century old, possible one-third of my life done, over with. When did I become this person? How did I become this?

Rhetorical, all of it. I know. I understand. Doesn't make it any less miraculous.

I think this whole not working thing has made me way too introspective. I keep pondering on napalmed bridges of the past and thinking on what Mikki said, that one time, with the hookah:

That is to say, eventually you must look for the common factor. Person A on the East coast and Person B on the West coast don't know each other, yet you expected and got the same results. The only thing these folks have in common are... YOU.

Though, to be fair, it is only here, in the desert, that I have had a density of friendship implosions- the likes of which one could see no where else.

For most? GOOD FUCKING RIDDANCE. 

Except today, when I'm bored and unmotivated to do anything but bitch.

Predatory like a Shark

I can tell now exactly how
Addiction it can be. That life.

Your eyes the size of flying
Saucers in the night. Everyone
Is part of your network, then,
Everyone is throwing limbs
Akimbo. The genteel chaos
Of love. Reach for the sky,
Ladies.

Schaedenfreude

So, when I hear this
My eyes roll, seemingly
By themselves, though
I might help with muscle
Control and the thoughts
That cause the interlude.

I feel the sun, far
Away as it might be.
Wobd

Probably,Maybe

can  I remember that?
Can I call it into mind
in solitary seconds when
I forget or forgo familiarity?
I'm sure there was a bright day
and the sweat beading lazily
on the skin I'd left to sizzle
in the sun.

Maybe I was staring. I was
probably staring. You probably
saw. and soon there we were,
there were double deckers, drinks,
diversions, dares. If I'm remembering
correctly, a kiss. I'm probably
not remembering correctly.

Now, fast forward to the last time
we met. Fast forward to the bathrobe

in the bar. Fast forward to your back
against the door. Remember skin

to skin, against an ancient night scene.
Remember my back and the dark before

you left. We said we would meet again
and I still think we may.

It will be different.

Something about home is losing it's allure. Also, in the vein of another letter I will never send... I don't want to hear of your conquests. Seriously. I know I told you about mine, but goddamn I dont want to know about yours.
Fair, unfair. I'm apathetic.
What matters to me, however improbable and unrealistic, is that you want me. Yes, this is problematic in a number of ways, but no, I don't care.
When will this feeling go away?

i am very unhappy.
what does it say about you when your own family won't respond to phone calls?
my "friends" find no consequence in ignoring me, or blatantly blowing me off.
fuck it.
i give up.
yet again.
i have nothing.