How To Say 'Rip Them Off', Repeat After Me.

Oh, the irony of your little 'announcement'.

So soon after what has transpired. And after everything you said to me.

'I can help you.'
'You don't deserve this hurt.'

Beginning of a whole new life indeed. Have fun with your new life, wherever your lies and infidelities may take you.


Pressing on, pressing on...

Maybe I can see a bright shining light now. Blurry, filtered through static. But the brightness outshines all of that. Fishing, finding. There is a place where the sun freezes your skin and your very enlightenment is no more. But enough of that. You mean nothing. You bled out and I followed your trail to a rural path. Dead and alone, just like me. I pass by and ignore your rancid stench. This is beautiful, this is pure revelation at its finest.


These are still just words. No attatchment, even through the wonders of the internet. It all means nothing.

Your Name Is Limitless.

This is all getting far too ridiculous. I'm growing very weary of these tumultuous waters that seem to calm down just long enough for me to get my footing before going all fucking crazy again.

I need change. I need chance. I need something that I can't get from anyone around me, or so it seems.

Every day is just...blank. Empty. Like there's nothing 'for me', every day. Not to be selfish and assume the world revolves around me, but it just seems like from day to day, I don't have a single goal to accomplish.

My words are leaving me again. I though I'd gotten them back. Yet here we are. Next one you pick could be a warhead, indeed.

Nuclear holocaust is probably a good way to describe my life the past couple of weeks. Complete and utter desolation (so emo, I know). Everything around me is just deteriorating further and further every day, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. Or in some cases, I'm not willing to do anything about. Mainly because I feel that the supposed 'correct' actions for me to take are a bunch of bullshit, no matter what anyone says.

I would say that I just need to make it through this storm, but it seems like this particular storm is coming in endles fucking waves. With intervals just long enough in between for me to let my guard down.

I can kiss you good-bye.

An asset.

Nate wants to be an asset. That is his goal in life. We got to talking tonight..just about the future, life in general, what we want to do. His whole drive as of late (he's attempting to become an electrician) is that he wants to be valued, to be needed.

Is it a bad thing that I could care lessed about being an asset, or being valued, or being needed? I mean, I'm well aware that everyone has different goals in life and all of that. But frankly, I couldn't care less if I ever become 'needed' or 'valued' to another person or group of people. I mean, sure, it'd be nice, but it isn't of necessity to me. I'd much rather do what I want, for my reasons, and leave it at that. If someone values what I do, needs what I do...whoopee. Yay, a fan. I don't care. The whole idea brings forth apathy in me.

Apparently, Lydia is now working as a dancer at a local stip club. This saddens me, but somehow, doesn't surprise me. She's an attention whore; she craves it. I wish Nate and I could have done more to help her see that the people she hangs around are not good influences, but, unfortunately, there isn't much I can do about that. We tried, she pretty much ran away. End of story.

I think my words are coming back to me. Thankfully. This is all flowing a lot easier than my last post. Which I am quite grateful for. Without my words, I don't have a way to vent. I told someone earlier today..it isn't the words themselves that I use as a form of catharsis; more often than not, the actual words bear little or no emotional link to how I'm currently feeling. It's the very fact that I'm writing; pen to paper (or in this case, binary to standard english) as an action.


Without that action, I don't know where I'd be.

Tapir's Flown Away.

This stress is getting to be too much to handle. I put in my two week's notice at work today, and that lightened my load a hundred-fold, but there's still so much more.

I feel like I'm slowly wearing down; I'm just waiting to look in the mirror and see grey hair. Hell, I think I've pulled a few out already. My train of though in general is no longer flowing; everything moves in quick, short bursts, in and out of my head faster than I can comprehend at most times.

I haven't even been listening to music at home as of late, and that's a bad sign. I'm not one ot be content with silence, so I sense this as an ill omen. The tides are turning against me, or some emo shit like that.

I feel as though I'm just plodding from day to day; no purpose or reason. To take the existensialist point of view, I am here simply to exist, and nothing more. And that bothers me. I need to be doing something. It doesn't even matter what, how insiginificant or major, I just need to break this work-sleep-work-sleep cycle, and fast, or else I'm going to fall victim to repetition. And that is the one thing I do not want to do. A routine is fine, but repetition is what kills the spirit. At least, in my case.

My well of words seems to be dry as of late. And just last week it was overflowing. I couldn't stop writing. Granted, my notebook looks more like abstract art than cohesive, understanable thoughts...but I was writing, that was the important thing. Now I keep starting sentences, then deleting them.

Or I just stare at this stupid blinking cursor, like it's going to give me divine inspiration. Heh. If only.

Like catching a tapir or keeping a nightmare.