i couldn’t sleep at all last night. i went to bed before nine and woke up every twenty minutes or so until the sun came up. dante slept on my leg the whole night, i think maybe because i was giving off sick / sad pheromones. i felt like throwing up. honest to god, i was nauseous just from thinking
today on the street a girl asked me for a light and i gave her a pack of matches i got in new york last year. i had been carrying it around in my breast pocket since then. yeah, well, good-bye to all that. i bought a pack of some crappy cigarettes from the corner store and walked around for a while until i found some shade to sit in. beneath an enormous palm tree i wondered how much worse it could get
tonight i am going to go to ruby room and fill myself with absolute trash until hopefully my heart just stops beating. and if that doesn’t work, there’s always drowning in nearby lake merritt, or stepping in front the 72R in downtown oakland as it makes its way up san pablo avenue. hah! i’m serious as a heart attack, man. there was no reason to be around before any of this. i was quit when i come in here, i’m twice as quit now (et cetera)
yeah well. jesus am i ever shredded
i think i have dispensed some goodwill in my time. i never did it for any other reason than to do it, cuz i like helping people and being friends with people. but if i could maybe cash in on some of that goodwill, even just a little bit, i sure would appreciate it. can anyone out there be my friend for a while? the alternative of course, which i am counting on, is to be alone like this, so maybe i’ll just focus on that
(this post is brought to you by ryan, who is an adult and not a teenager (lol))
for god’s sake man is anyone awake out there in oakland? and if so, can you please come over?
i feel sick to my stomach. i can’t even breathe. it’s that same kind of feeling you get when you put an animal down. it is a necessary awfulness and i don’t feel good about it one bit
i’ve been hiding in my room and i can’t sleep. i keep hallucinating that someone is knocking on my front door
i just spent the last few hours pushing everything away so that i don’t have to feel anything anymore. i have no comfort in my life. i have written about this many times and it is no less true now. i buried my grandmother in a flower garden three weeks ago and i don’t want to see anyone anymore. i really do want everyone to go away. i hang around people who don’t care about me so that i don’t have to care about them either, but of course i do. i have no comfort. and i know it’s my fault that i’ll never get my hands on any of it because i’m designed that way. i took things off my wall and threw things away. all i can do right now is take a bunch of melatonin and go to sleep. it’s not even nine pm. nothing works anymore and i know that not having anything is what’s going to kill me. i am deeply unhappy and i don’t want to be alive anymore
when someone self-describes as “quirky” or “weird” you can be assured that in reality they are about as controversial as a loaf of bread
. . . natural friendliness which never became oppressive. Friendliness with no ulterior motive, friendliness stripped of high-pressure salesmanship, for someone who might never come again.