I am unable to sleep. I tried for more then an hour, but I have given up for the night. I kept thinking that an exotic spider managed to crawl into my bedroom and would bite me so that I would become paralyzed and..die. That made me think of vampires. The vampires made me a bit edgy, so now I'm writing. I should start thinking of the mess that I made of my life lately, but I only talk about it. My friends know all about my filthy mess, but I never stop to actually, truly think about what I am doing. I just talk and then do exactly the opposite of what I said earlier.
I said I would quit Mr. Neverland, but I am seeing him tomorrow night.
I am reading 'And the Ass saw the Angel' and I'll quote the part where I am now, don't try to stop me;
Six years passed. Six young gunfighters down on their luck. Six pine boxes to carry them in. Six crooked miles walked. Six broken stiles crossed. Six passing bells swinging but making no sound. Six widows weeping. Six plots of cold ground. Six blackbirds throwing six crooked shadows. Six sinking moons. Six wounds. Six notches. Six muddy crutches broken in two.
So rolled the years of mah springtime.
Six wicker baskets.
Into these did the years of mah youthhead roll.
Six years ago I was eightteen. I thought I was going to become a famous writer. I thought I was a genius. I thought I was sane, beautiful and talented. I was ready for the world, and the world was supposed to sigh in relief of my much anticipated adulthood. I wish I could pinpoint the moment when it turned from silent confidence into the cynical void that I feel today. Am I failing somehow? Have I burned a bridge too many? Has my soul turned black? Have I become the vampire, the human leech, that I fear at night?
Is it easier maybe, could we say that my path of self-destruction, lack of self-worth, is merely a symptom of a clinical depression, the well-documented black hole that twenty-somethings experience after their college days? A lack of faith? Slight shizophrenia lingering somewhere in the dark periphery of my brain? A curious and unstable mind forced to see reality?
The Janitor of Lunacy said I reminded him of the following, It's the image I'll take to bed where I'll read until it's dawn so I can be sure the vampires are gone.
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Monday, May 21, 2007
We’re having tarts in the star-lid sky. Pints of beer go round while we sit in the grass and the firstborn perform their magic while reason sleeps and vanity is born in the shadow of a tree. We’re too young for coherent dreams. Underneath the clouds we seek the comfort of a statue, and from a gaping hole in the sand we hear children’s laughter. We’re shielded from malady, the truth cannot find us anymore as our mirror show only lost keys. We unzip our trousers and I kiss you, my friend.