christmast hell again. chapter 1 (12.25.05)
you simple country dress
i love you the best
that was how it began. same sort of shit. feeling again. same old shit, new face new problem new nothing. i've been here before and could sleep walk through the journey, always returning to the same spot of hell.
wow the shadows against the stale library colored aura around this room. remember when this room also wasn't home? remember when you wanted to scream and pull yours and their hair out?
she said so, matter of factly, "didn't you notice i stopped taking pictures long time ago?"
fuck you. you should have known long ago why i don't take pictures. i don't like being fake. and so i don't like to fake smiling. not when i felt so shitty inside. that was
hahah. just thinking now how awkward it is to here a knock at your door and have mom ask, "can i come in." sure of course whatever. you gave me birth a long time ago and so yes you can come in. but please don't stay because i don't want to see your face for long. the staleness of your library colored stale skin. i said stale twice and that is just how much you remind me.
i can't even find any words anymore to describe how badly i wish i could ignore you. if i only could, if i could have learned so long ago who knows which road i'd be on now. maybe not better maybe not worse. but curiosity in ifs runs deep at times of strife.
i have presents but i don't want to even bother. not now not after this again.
if only the stars that aligned this time wouldn't be so cross. i wish to "god" that there was a simple constalation that looked like "the cross". and then i could just tell you idiots that the whole notion of the trinity-god-religion is ridiculous because it obviously came from gay cowboys and roman fiction writers staring up into the sky and coming up with the bullshit of our generation.
our generation meaning humanity.
sometimes i feel like my head is just going to explode if i smoke anymore but really, if i don't my hand is just going to reach for the dullest object and slam dunk it through my eye, over and over she screams.
i space in and out of phases that i think the universe is collapsing on my brain i have to concentrate just long and hard enough to not pass into the killer's dream. this ghost town is only tollerable after i kill my mind and blow my brains against mother skies.
blown out and it's christmas hell. the holidays are a time for me to feel guilty enough to not leave the house and just walk around from the mess.
posted by fillshe @ 7:08 PM
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