I don't want to cradle pillows in my sleep.
I don't want to listen to mellow, heartbreaking acoustic on my ipod all the time.
I don't want to only write sad stories.
I don't want love to be an unfortunate feeling.
I don't want to cry to be able to sleep well.
I don't want to contemplate suicide 3 times a week.
I don't want to fake smiles.
I don't want to be considered strong for being unhappy.
I don't want to be taken seriously because I've been through a lot.
I don't want to get a heavy heart when I try and discuss my feelings.
I don't want you to tell me to go away.
I don't want to be ignored.
I don't want to bottle anger.
I don't want to be jealous of pretty, stupid girls.
I don't want to need.
I don't want to feel such terrible things, I wish i was numb.
I don't want to envy people who hold hands.
I don't want to hate my bed.
I don't want to be different this way.
I don't want people to call me bipolar.
I don't want to hate seeing you enjoy life.
I don't want other girls to like you.
I don't want other boys to call you baby.
I don't want to be jealous.
I don't want to be sad, all the fucking time.
I don't want to cry until I get sick.
I don't want to be awkward.
I don't want to be angry for no reason.
I don't want to be incapable of fixing my problems.
I don't want to feed off of orgasms because i crave the endorphins.
I don't want an eating disorder.
I don't want to drink my worries away.
I don't want to be this.
Me.
All of this bull crap that people tell me
is so "amazing"
is so "beautiful, gorgeous"
is so "unique and incredible"
is so "don't ever change"
is so "don't hate yourself"
is so
FUCKING AWFUL AND NO ONE LOVES ME
AND ONE WANTS ME
AND I CAN'T BE WITH ANYONE BECAUSE
I DON'T KNOW HOW TO WITHOUT WORRYING
THEY'RE ALWAYS GOING TO LEAVE BECAUSE
I CAN'T MAKE ANYONE HAPPY.
I don't want to be alone.
This is for the power fighters.
This is for the story writers.
This is for the motorheads.
This is for the whores in bed.
This is for the freedom people.
This is for the church and steeple.
This is for the old bus driver.
This is for the new grade niner.
This is for the dying man.
This is for the marching band.
This is for the country's leader.
This is for the woman beater.
This is for the loud mouth chicks.
This is for the jerks and dicks.
This is for evolutionists.
This is for revolutionists.
This is for the young pure lovers.
This is for the long lost brothers.
This is for the traffic cop.
This is for the moms that never stop.
This for the guitar heroes.
This for the total zeroes.
This is for the lonely losers.
This is for the cool car cruisers.
This is for the pretty ladies.
This is for the iffy maybes.
This is for rebel outlaws.
This is for he who has no cause.
This is for the pregnant prom queens.
This is for the college deans.
This is for the high school grads.
This is for the sex mad lads.
This is for the pot head dropouts.
This is for the sports team swapouts.
This is for those who've had enough.
My advice?
Don't give up.
Every part of me knows
This is just how the story goes
This is just how the wind must blow
Every part of me knows
Every inch of me can agree
This is just how we get set free
This is just how we come to be
Every inch of me can agree
Every length of me can understand
This is just the ways of man
This is just the beat played by the band
Every length of me can understand
Every molecule of me is aware
This is just too much to bare
this is just, it is not fair
Every molecule of me is aware
Everybody seems to get it
This is just life, so you can't sweat it
This is just existence, so just forget it
Everybody seems to get it
So fondly goes your mind
And in the melting snow you'll find
The lost and tattered souls of yesteryear
Buried deep in winter's fear
Try to help them you will not
Their time has passed, they're now forgot.
Every part of me knows
This is just how the story goes
This is how the wind must blow
Every part of me knows
But i wish it could be
A different ending for you and me
And all the tattered souls of yesteryear
Who too wanted different endings to be
Different endings for you and me.
I want you to get out of my life and stay where you may wander.
Because every time you talk I wonder why you even bother with me.
Just, go away.
Please?
This weather we are facing is replacing
all the sunshine in your eyes.
In your big brown eyes that I love.
And what has come between us
Intervened us
It will pass
If you let it
It only lasts
If you let it.
This I always guarantee.
So tell me darling, how can I help
If all you do is let our differences collect up on the shelf.
Discovering dust, forgetting us. What has happened here?
Don't you tell me that I've changed and that your feelings have
all rearranged.
That's a lie.
And you know it.
You make me cry.
And you know it.
This I always guarantee.
Lemme make the best of your bad situation
tell me how's this variation
don't give up on us.
Don't throw this loving underneath the bus
don't put my calls on hold
don't you go and act so cold.
This charade that you've been playing?
Damn dear, it is getting old.
So tell me, how you gonna spend your holidays?
Alone sulking in your fictional pain?
Man what a waste
Boy what a bad taste
in your mouth.
Come spend them here with me
Exchanging gifts under the tree.
Oh what a scene.
Babe, what a scene.
That smile is delightful
Positively.
That mind is so insightful
Positively.
This I always guarantee.
Oh I need you.
This I always guarantee
This I always guarantee
Babe, I'll always guarantee
That I love you
and you love me.
Guaranteed.
Today I have the most intense, unimaginable headache.
The kind you read about. Legendary isn't the right word
but it's the first word that comes to mind.
It's like a bowling ball running down the lane, a spark from flint.
as Andrew from Garden state would call it,
"it's like a tiny thunderstorm inside my head. And it only last for a split second
and then it's gone"
It first it started to seep into my skull as i sat up to stretch
on the couch. I had been lying there indulging myself in my favoured
country for independent films latest, "He died with a felafel in his hand".
True story. Not the movie, but it's titled. Based on the novel by John Birmingham.
I recommend it, great film. Anyways, I sit up and this sharp shock runs through my
noggin. I think dehydration. Though that's insane, I've had plenty to drink today. Water
especially. Then I think sun, but haven't been out all day. I take an asprin and it escalates.
I lay down, but when i get up again it's worse. I play the guitar but the noise makes my brain
rattle.
So here i am now sitting at the computer, the radiation of the blogger New Post screen
banging in my face like some cheap desperate hooker begging for your dick.
I know that was graphic but at this point I'm not calm enough for any ocean breeze or freshly baked bread comparisons so back off.
Today is one of the days when i sit for ages, i watch films, i listen to music, i have meaningful conversations with myself and i still cannot for the love of the lord in heaven, write anything close to poetry. So i'm changing it up and posting what is assumed to be a traditional blog post. I'm sure everyone reading this is ecstatic but i could give less than a fuck and a shit.
Then i start to let my head wander, which is never good when it hurts this badly. What if it isn't medical. What if my health is fine, better than normal even. Which is a stretch considering i wolfed McDonald's like it was my last meal today at around 1pm. What if it's mental. What if this depression is getting worse, growing faster and faster and i can't keep up. And the only thing my body knows how to do is hurt? What if that's crazier than it sounds at the same time.
A friend once told me the only thing that can fix you, is you. That people, emotions, the idea of love, the commitment we associate with it, with sex, and dates and friends, ultimately gets in the way of the only thing that matters. You. But then that raises a question for all those feeling suicidal, depressed and manic like me. What if you think you don't matter.
Which is crazier than my earlier thesis about pain. I matter, everyone matters to some degree, right? To someone anyways. But the feeling still sits there with all my pain in the back of my mind. What if it turned out, i didn't matter. Then how can i fix things?
I know this is a lot of ideas considering how little i figure i can think right now.
Anyways, something inside, something incredibly simply utterly sad is screaming at me right now "you're depressed and it needs to be fixed."
But how?
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