Nothing can stop me now cause I just don’t care

Hey pig

nothing’s turning out the way I planned

Hey, pig.

there’s a lot of things I hoped you could help me understand.

What am I supposed to do?

 

and then things took off at an astonishing rate. I tried to warn them, to tell them, to plead with them and they didn’t believe me.

it’s ok, because I have proof that they were out of line douchebags and the fact that she called me twice after her work hours to tell me what was up, well, that was something. Basically a permission slip to move as fast as I can because they want shit changed, and I guess I had no right to question my role.

Did it happen? Yes. Because of me? Some of it.

Then it was probably meant to be, bitch. Stop crying.

We will see what happens now, we will see, we will see we will see. In the mean time I endeavor to purchase a cigarette, so I suppose that is what I will have to do.

Today is the first day I officially asked for help. You can donate and give us a foundation to begin anew with, or laugh derisively.

CTRL ALT DEL

I once worked for a local broadband company, as of yesterday. The work was familiar in ways to what I had done in the Army and despite the sass, I enjoyed it.

When I started, there were three of us. One guy who’d been here awhile, one temp, and me. The new guy.

The temp, seemed more interested in my ass, than doing his job. After a month of me denying him, and him shamming, he left. Said he had an interview at another place one day when he didn’t show up, and then never came back even when he was given the chance.

Soon after, after one supervisor’s son had worked incredibly briefly; (because he was destined to be a baseball pro) we got another guy. I was asked to work less to justify having the third guy.

Once he started

with a wounded hand

it likes to heal

half the man I used to be

Weiland dies, and I am thrust into all of my memory. Watching all the sounds I grew up with be picked off one by one by their own demons while I buckle under the weight of my own.

I’d like to be paralyzed by your silence and avoidance, but I am angry still at the things you’ve done and the things you haven’t. I don’t feel punished by your rejection, you don’t realize how you are culpable in this outcome.

I have echoes to send.

To follow/begin/sever

She sent us a group message. I say she, it came from her number and we have no doubt it was from her.

She said she had passed two weeks before, and had been buried in faraway terrain. Not something she could afford by finance or other symbolic debt as far as we knew. It didn’t matter, because we’d grieved enough to meet her end or otherwise, this was already spoken for.

It would have been nice, it would have been solid to have something legit to tack a milestone to, but she would rather deny us that and leave us with poisonous uncertainty.

She was always uncertainty, we just didn’t follow.

We are free of her now, to believe she is gone and absent forever, and even if she wasn’t we would demand it so because of her choices to manipulate and deceive.

Then: Thank you for our freedom.

It grows today

Drumming to the vibrant sound

There are things I love and cherish and things I detest.

Keep your pain and disappointment at a distance, I beg, I’ve known them longer than I needed.

Possibilities await me and I am confident of the fruition, whether it is what I thought I wanted or not.

You await my permission to drift and wither and I await the chance to give it.

I will stop being afraid and realign my focus.

Let’s start for sure.

Emboldened hunger

I am not myself today, and I haven’t been for awhile.
And who’s to know this isn’t the self I’ve always really been, convinced of otherwise ’til now?
It feels strange and heated. Like the seats in my car as I roll through sprawling neighborhoods with streets woven through them like a cat worn ball of thread.
It’s starting to feel more comfortable than ever it has; As though regret were a mere whisper upon the horizon of memories.
The reality is that I have apologized way too long to the space around me for existing. I’m here for a reason, whether to solve some spiritual riddle or contribute to the chaos, I’m still discovering. It seems to consist of each.

This illusioned

Magic works because we believe in a lie.

It seems nearly as though that is the simple case for everything; there is always some lie we have to believe in. Once we see the secret of the trick it no longer dazzles.

So what do we want more? The ambivalent truth or the blessed lie?

Everything everything everything ends

Getting it so easy wasn’t so easy.
I saw what you did and it looks a little familiar.

They walk the halls scurrying through time and evolution, I can only witness, mute.
There is nothing I can do to prevent all the tomorrows promised and denied.
Every day, more threads weave their way into the whole tapestry and at the end what an image we shall see.

The pace is unforgiving, the rotations precision over and over and over

What doors will present themselves to me today and tomorrow? My lips sometimes curl in a pleasant expectation even when I know that there will be things I wish I could have avoided.

All these things I get to learn.
All these things I get to learn.
All these things I get to learn.

Do fucking ha.

Seems only when I hurt the most is when things come pouring out freely and unabashed.

Looking for stories from people that know things.

I keep wanting to tell and admit and purge myself of all the things that have injured me. Instead I sever all that I love to both protect myself from myself and others, and to propagate the injury and suffering.

They tell me “you are the right one” and “you are doing fine” then why do I constantly bathe in doubt and destruction?

There are moments when I feel absolutely fine, and the majority of them, I am lost and angry and hurt.

Why does this have to be this way?

I keep from socializing with real people, because when I wanted to have friends, he provided such a barrier and obstacle with fighting and humiliation and hurt, that I stay inside. And return to the things that I know are not good for me. And the one thing that gave me light and happiness, I cut it out of me, put it away. Distance myself from joy.

I don’t want to be afraid, and I want to be happy, but for some reason I return, return, return to the things that made me feel safe and whole, even though they were eroding me, and continue to do so now.

I know you’re disappointed and displeased with me, and I am as well, but I feel like there is nothing I can do, not enough energy to give a fuck.

Tomorrow may be different, tomorrow may be amazing and full of motivation. Right now, this is it.

Night Call

I want to show you where it’s dark, but have no fear

The silence you gift me with after what I’ve engaged in for you speaks volumes. You can advance with your quaint memories, yet not remain agog at what those things truly mean.
The situations you had us in, dark and rampant with suffering.

It’s as though I’m having a conversation with God. Only He knows all of this, and cannot give me the answers I want.

To just accept what is wrong, and know that in the end it will be better than what we had, if only if only if only.

Don’t come to me with your mute ignorance, denial and lack of appreciation for what you were a part of. You had a role to play, and there are things we will all be accountable for.

I am grateful I am grateful I am grateful. Yes I am. Somehow I’ll accept this.