| Noose... |
"Why are you doing this to me?"
.
I started out with that quote because it is something I have been asking myself lately. I know it may sound odd that I would ask myself such a thing, but I have been. I realize that most of the things in my life that I do not fully appreciate are the things I have somehow brought upon myself. Maybe not always directly, but usually in some inadvertent manner.
.
I want to go home. I remember why I left here before. I don't like it here. I don't like what being here brings. I don't like having to fix everyone else's problems, and that is all I get whenever I come back. Everyone thinks I have all the answers. I am just a man. I have no more ability than anyone else. I am not God. I can't just point a finger and make all your problems go away.
.
But I wish I could...
.
I want to make everything better for everyone. I want to make the world easier. I want to make everything work the way it should, not the way it does.
.
I know I don't belong here. I need to escape from life.
.
I shouldn't be here...
.
I am in that euphoric state between sleep and consciousness where nothing feels real and everything matters...
.
I want to be beautiful again. What happened to who I used to be? I don't want to wake up everyday thinking it is my last. I don't want to sleep and never know if I will wake again...
.
I am a child and I think it is time I seek a master. I need some help. I need to fix this broken machine. I need to find out where the wrench in my gears came from. I can't function anymore. I can't function like I should, anyway. Everything feels so mechanical. I can't feel. I act out of instinct and habit. I don't even think about my days anymore. I just function. I do because I don't know how to stop. I need to be interrupted. I need a jumpstart. I need to reboot.
.
Reset me, please.
.
I want to be one of the beautiful people.
.
I want to live in the clouds. I wouldn't mind the air up there. I wouldn't mind the emptiness. I don't ever have anyone down here anyway, it seems. I think I am lonely...
.
Or maybe I have too many people around...
.
I can't tell the difference.
.
I want someone to tell me I am wrong. I want someone to tell me that I have been wrong all along and that life is worth sticking around for and that everything is going to be alright.
.
I want someone to lie to me...
.
I don't think I would believe you anyway.
.
Everything here is as dull as reading a phone book. Where did all my adrenaline run off to?
.
At least I still have my guitar. She does me well. And I fuck her gently. Sometimes hard, sometimes rough, but always with love. Always, and she knows it.
.
I guess the fact of the matter is that I hate most everyone. I think this may be part of what is wrong with me. I think I need to have a reason to love but I never need purpose behing my hate. Hate is cheap, love is work...
.
And work is never cheap...
.
Fix me.
.
Fuck me when you're done...
.
Dear Diary...
.
I need someone to get inside...