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|Monday, February 7th, 2011|
|stream of consciousness....like everything i do
I am the inchoate man
Beheld in gestation
By eyes which wish to see me grown
But i take the pain
Cause its not me you think you've known
I'm stirring wildly
Waiting to kick my way out this womb
So step back
Take another look
Am i back on track?
Is this thing starting to cook?
Avert your eyes
I'm the new beast in this book
Bitches I'm the thing you couldn't name
Crouched in the night while your soul shook
Yeah, you'll be missing me....whenever
Cause this state I'm in ain't forever
I AM THE INCHOATE MAN
haha......just wait and see man
|Friday, November 5th, 2010|
oh dear kitten, oh dear
I gotta say - we're in some trouble here
(is it wrong that it turns me on?)
|Thursday, November 4th, 2010|
|Shooting meth is not like drinking drano topped off with some sudafed....jesus
For the record. Just because crystal meth is made (sometimes) from things like lye, decongestants, and red phosphorus obtained from matchboxes - does not mean you are ingesting this when you partake of said drug. These ingredients are used in a chemical reaction - to create the end result. A completely different and independent chemical composition from any of these precursors. Methamphetamine is just that - methamphetamine. This molecule is what crystallizes out at the last step.....and when done properly - this is all you are ingesting. No one is running around shooting up the toxic waste that was siphoned off or leftover in the process. I mean seriously....we're not stupid.
I hate these people (who like to say this) as much as I hate people who say cigarettes are just as addictive as heroin....like they have a fucking clue what that even means.
|excerpt...Chuck Palahniuk - Lulluby
"These distraction-oholics. These focus-ophobics. Old George Orwell got it backward.
Big Brother isn't watching. He's singing and dancing. He's pulling rabbits out of a hat. Big Brother's busy holding your attention every moment you're awake.
He's making sure you're always distracted. He's making sure you're fully absorbed.
He's making sure your imagination withers. Until it's as useful as your appendix. He's making sure your attention is always filled.
And this being fed, it's worse than being watched. With the world always filling you, no one has to worry about what's in your mind. With everyone's imagination atrophied, no one will ever be a threat to the world."
|".....I thank God i'm not basic"
"Necks are cracking sideways,
Hit me from the back side.
I am on the white side,
You are on the black side.
Cut a piece that's bite size,
Shoot me from my good side.
If you cut a straight line,
This would be a good time."
|Thursday, October 28th, 2010|
I can't find a way to make this one bleed
It just gathers together like a blemish
Poised hideously beneath the surface
All these marks are just the truth
- throbbing at the thought of getting out
Can't you see all these shadows I'm cutting across my face
Has got me boxed in this darkness?
I'm so fucking lonely
Hows that for honesty?
And now for the simple trick
Some gleaming genius glowing betwixt
Could you pluck it - flickering - in this thing gone sick?
"Oh FUCK! I'll give you anything - if you could make the damn thing work"
|Tuesday, October 19th, 2010|
|The best way I can say it this morning.
Rip myself to waking, force myself down this narrow corridor, to the person I have been playing. It does not encompass all my emotions, my motivations, but it serves me well (enough). And how have you been? Did the sun greet you warm and smiling this morning? Or catch you with a glare, sharp and blinding? Are you well, or simply just surviving? Sometimes it's hard to tell from the shadow in which I'm sitting. Though, while I play with these ideas like planets in circular motion, watching light crawl across the floor - I'll see, at times, things align in perfect position. And I'll smile, embracing the moments silent harmony. Playing with power I think I've found. (stumbled upon)
I wish I could give you passion - but all I've got is this disengaged contemplation.
|Monday, October 4th, 2010|
|one poem, two poem, swimming in the water.....
Sheltered by loneliness
How can you fail when
there is no one to disappoint?
My emotions today are grasping
My breath marked by gasping
This searching, seeking
For love, tentatively
Eying her through this wash of colour
Its hard to tell one from the other
Overwhelmed, as it were
by the shades and hues
How can I know if its you
That I see in perfect tint?
could you send me some sign?
could you drop me just one hint?
We are the beautifully damaged my friend
We are the desperately seeking
We are the golden whose tarnish
shows only when we are speaking
The smoke in your voice
so truculent and sweet
I know the kind of girl
I want to meet
Suffered in cool contemplation
Smoke in foul constellations
stirs about my intentions
Sick from failed inventions
one last gasp
one last exhalation
One last retch before absolution
|No longer half the man - but twice - in certain ways
"And even when your hope is gone - move along - move along - just to make it through"
Been finding solace solely in movement. Just keep going, fuck the time to think (cause it only leads to one place, and we know it well). Even if it feels the next step is to be the one to do us in - take it - then the next one. (It's just another five minutes).
All these songs i send through my eardrums, all these emotions i borrow and match, seem to take me through the dry spells, when I've been feeling a little too numb. Dumb and down. So take me up on another clever crescendo, send me out to dangle on some sustained seventh.
|Sunday, September 19th, 2010|
|for those who think they know me well
How to embrace danger w/ out the needle
(I'm still looking for a rush that's equal)
Do my eyes show
just where I've been?
Do my eyes hold - this juxtaposition
Of shadowed images?
Can you tell
I'm missing the taste
Of warm thick blood?I looked at a wound
& wished it was deeper
I looked at a wound
& wished it was deeper
|Thursday, September 16th, 2010|
|we'll keep trying...to get it back
I keep drinking coffee, though i can't seem to awaken from this post-dreaming lethargy. Feels so compelling to drop my head to the paper - letting the pen sleep for me. As its done all these years in sickness and elation.....feigned levitation. Feeling its finally time to focus that mind let loose, construct a prism and pierce it through with intentioned thought - to watch it enumerate in vivid colour. A splash of life upon the page - some abstract art conception - encompassing the emotion as it passes. Bequeathing its essence before it goes.
For yesterday i felt a scarce serenity, softly insinuating....could i have plucked that notion - and rendered it - in its gentle complexity - would have been a thing of purity. And now today - after its fleeting feeling - i have the strange sensation - of being hungover - or returning to the mornings of a lowering level of chemicals in the system....shivering....but only in part. I think its just the cold - and the soreness of muscles from a proper exercise the day before.
|Wednesday, September 15th, 2010|
|Tuesday, September 14th, 2010|
|Saturday, September 11th, 2010|
|"...waiting to become"
I find it hard to understand this incessant need for people to accept/reject others - face value - for what gleams through the thin crack we all let remain open, reluctantly. Operating and existing amongst each other - revealing their judgements to others - in passing. So often i find i'm taken back - having not placed a value upon the person to whom they refer - just took them for themselves singularly. Not in relation or position on some complex hierarchy constantly shifting in response to comments expressions and actions. Subconscious rankings.....
I don't propose to say i'm above this, its more i cannot hope to exist with this activity running rampant under and around my interactions. Its a sort of safety for me, to accept without judgment, and hope perhaps to glimpse at something hidden behind that slit in the door, some truism and essence that goes beyond that face value (wich we portray and allow for such placement in the minds of those we meet....knowing its inevitability). I need to remain with withheld judgment...at least till i can base on something more than the invariably inaccurate image misconstrued by so many coping mechanisms and damaged psyches.... - because if this is not possible among people - how can i hope to remain among them - without such chemical cloaks to veil my shaky structure?? And in these days i need more than anything to believe I can be me - and accepted for that - not the sad way i try to portray myself....in the way we all do - some version of ourselves we think better - more attractive....though more often than not pales in the light of our purity - unmarred or hidden.
|Thursday, September 9th, 2010|
|"i know it sounds absurd - but please tell me who i am"
ah holy hell....i guess ill attempt to post something of consequence. Still it seems that constant stream has dwindled or dried up. Those words which use to spin around the moments of my life as they transpired seem choked back, or even worse - nonexistent. I mean how long can i blame a lack of excitement for my distracted emptiness?
But here's what is and what should never be...Im more sober than i've ever been - at least 2 months scratched out, and it seems almost that a sort of peace has replaced the twitching delirium (for which im incredibly grateful) - never thought this would be a place which i would desire to stay - never imagined that i could even grasp at a normal life, and perhaps create some semblance of happiness w/ in reality and its narrowing confines - but perhaps...perhaps. I mean what it comes down to is this....in the blissed out madness of the seek high acquire high cycle - nothing else matters (which is half the point) - so as a result - the life i ought to have by 25 - is miles away - and out of reach - at least in the immediate sense. And its high time i could exist w/ out varying levels of reliance on some other poor sap who managed to care about me and then be weighted down by my in-and-out drifting between consciousness and something else entirely....so much that executing any plan - or even remembering i had one (except to cop) is enveloped by drug induced amnesia. Quenched and relegated to the realm of all the other things i forgot to remember. And most of all - it is time to be a man - to daily surmount ones fears - and accept into your full awareness - to absorb and hold - the things which before you shied away or closed your eyes ... short circuited its image or affect by chemical dissolution....
So here we are...starting out with nothing....again...and again...and again.
Saturday we start a job at dunkin donuts, which we will ride a bike to since our license is revoked for the next 5 years...and will pay only 8 dollars an hour...
These are reasons its time to play normalcy, - and hey - maybe after all these years in some strange penumbra - the world the others live in could offer something new....who knows - but hell - its worth a shot...
And if nothing else - maybe i can allow my brain sometime to remap itself and account for the various holes/craters excessive meth use invariably creates across its surface.
|Monday, July 26th, 2010|
|"Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars?"
"...Cause i could really use a wish right now"
Aint that the truth. Its been over 1 month now that ive been hibernating. Living again with Jill...been here long enough that its almost comfortable - even though know in the back of my mind i don't belong here. Since she moved back home staying w/ her feels like im infringing on some life, some small world i don't fit in. I like her family fine, but this constant return - in sad states of health, causes me to feel like a mangy dog you fed once and keeps coming back. As i continually realize - I need to take steps towards something different.
But chances are within a week i'll be back in a program. Not that its what I want, or even feel is necessary - at least for remaining sober. What it offers me is a place to live - and at this point that is my main concern. And seeing as how i'm broke and jobless - its rather important. But this transience of my situation, inhibits me from rectifying that. Leaving only the option of state funded living - until somehow i can get some money together, some sort of stability, and i guess a few months of hey i stayed sober...
I'm not sure what i'm doing....
All this biding time - waiting for a sign....
|Friday, July 23rd, 2010|
|"and i'm wishing my legs away - cause they're taking me to nowhere safe"
Apologies to the friends ive garnered on this site, apologies to the people ive known in this world....its all been too much bother to maintain the relationship - which is a sad sorry excuse.....But truthfully i havent spoken to anyone in a while.....just putting myself back together like some skinny dopesick humpty dumpty.....sad times at notquite high.
But truthfully.....its an amazing thing to be young....once again - after worrisome test results and double pneumonia and weeks in the hospital...everything is back to normal - in all but perfect health. Now its just the trouble of continuing without the things that have so defined me for all these years. Once again i ask - if not a junkie - then who? But once again - it gets boring repeating the same subject matter - day after day - year after year.
and yesterdays thoughts...
Here's what i miss most. Feeling comfortable. The living is easy with eyes closed - misunderstanding all you see
. I loved the misinformation that made up my world view. The lie of illegally released neurotransmitters. The unearned happiness, the reward w/ out the risk...the self confidence i do not possess conjured and painted in my rendering of reality. The ability to turn the knob and quiet the volume. The ability to walk amongst them w/out the shudder, the deafening ringing...thanks to the chemical earplug. The blinders and numbing agents. My synthetic bubble...it was so warm and safe in that pseudo-embryo. How long will we yearn for a return to the womb?
I have to leave this shelter...Cause we keep returning to:
So this is life when you don't take any chances...
I ought to be happy - or at least grateful - for I am neither dead nor in jail - and both were a very real possibility.
|Wednesday, July 7th, 2010|
|"The grabbing hands Grab all they can - Everything counts in Large amounts"
I haven't had words in a while....this is the last thing i wrote....sitting in my hospital room....after my last dose of lorazepam....I'm about 2 weeks sober now...the hardest kick I've ever experienced....i think the narrowness by which i slipped death, and my feebleness as a result added to it....not only kicking but fighting for my life....my heart constantly monitored, daily ekg's, living off ice chips and IV's - a dying liver and an inflamed pancreas...I've never been so delirious.
Today is phasing out, feel plateaued - have since a groggy waking - which resulted in a return to bed for another 3 hrs in just about as many later. At least i can say this...that transient turmoil, painful period, of hard WD - painful retching, sleepless nights and paranoia. The things Ive seen, the people Ive heard - in that sleepless delirium of benzo w/d -all in such confusion of traffic on deaths doorstep. Yet i feel numb...because this means only more perpetuating perpetuity, postponing probability. (these harrowing figures that haunt my steps) We've been at this stretch of road coming on ten years now....need some new salvation.
Feel so numb in a way i would never allow. I remember i let my soul utter its truth to you once - you hung up the phone - i was high. Those days it all had so much more meaning. Searching for purity like it could be found...But so often what i found....was that same dial tone - I hear it in the glances on the street, the comments of strangers come in its tone...across this jumbled mess - my mangled utopia - comes to me barrage of defiant dial tones....final and unfeeling.
"I would change myself if I could
I'd walk with my own people if I could find them,
And I'd say that I'm sorry to you,
I'm sorry to you, and I don't want to call you,
But then I want to call you cause I don't want to crush you,
But I feel like crushing you
And it's true
I took for granted you were with me
I breathe by your looks and you look right through me
But we were broke, and didn't know
But we were broke, and didn't know
But we were broke, and didn't know
But we were broke, and didn't know
Right... oh, what's right?"
|Tuesday, June 8th, 2010|
life in flux
promises beyond the penumbra
tilting neither toward good will or ill
it simply will be what it will...
and on i trudge - for lack of options