Nobody knows where you are, how near or how far.

Unfortunately, they never will.

black holes in the sky

My mind is the biggest maze to have ever existed, ignited, lights and the sounds and the sky's light reflections of this city I inhibit, and the speed of the car and the voice coming through the speakers, by your skin and our games, these games we play until the sun comes up. 
The sky is violet, 
I feel at home.

I wish I were a Warhol silk screen hanging on the wall. Or little Joe or maybe Lou. I'd love to be them all. All New York's broken hearts and secrets would be mine. I'd put you on a movie reel, and that would be just fine. 

I remember when, I remember, I remember when I lost my mind
There was something so pleasant about that place.
Even your emotions had an echo,
In so much space.

And when you're out there
Without care,
Yeah, I was out of touch
But it wasn't because I didn't know enough
I just knew too much

And I hope that you are having the time of your life
But think twice, that's my only advice

Come on now, who do you think you are?
Ha ha ha bless your soul
You really think you're in control?

Maybe I'm crazy
Maybe you're crazy
Maybe we're crazy
Probably.

You grow up and you never know father. You grow older, you don't know family at all. You spend years wondering streets and homes and schools and parties and dinners, stores and garages, tunnels and airports; looking for family. You look in your phone book, and you look through your photos. You search for this family, because its all you ever wanted. You look long and carefully and hard but you can't find it. So you spend your years perfecting yourself. You spend your years learning to be alone. You learn to survive and over come, you learn to hold your own hand. You learn to understand independence and how the world works. You learn the truth. Then one day you realize you never knew what loneliness was. Because you never knew another way of life. You never missed anyone, and you were never helpless. You missed what you never had because you watched too many movies about love and dad and mom and husband. You get sad when you hear "I wish you were here" but then you realize, there is nobody out there you could possibly be speaking to..

Meds.

Today is day one, of Ritalin, Concerta. I feel strange but excited. I hope things change.


Sitting in the doctors office, I tell her side affects of my life don't advertise it. I hope my past isn't the reason I'm here today. 
She tells me everything will be better.
Everything is better in an organized mind.


Clean my room, buy groceries. 
Paint my walls, laundry, breathe fresh air.
Feed the cat.
Cut my hair, take another shower. 
Write.
Breathe with your gut.
Patience. 

no comfort in the waiting room

I can't do this anymore. I've been asking myself "what if" for too long. It was once mine.
But what I want now never will be. It just keeps hitting me and playing me. 
I feel like nothing.
Why did you come into my life now?
I want to forget everything.

firecrackers

While I'm looking at your face like I'll be testing on it later
Poke a hole into my chest and pull my heart through
Up to my room for cigarettes and cartoons
Or we could sit right here and try to guard these barstools
I'll take you anyway that I can have you
Bring along your ethics and your issues and your taboos


Hey, wake up.
I have to leave now.


Okay.


I'll text you.
I love you.


Okay.


And you slip out the door leaving me wondering how you ended up there. We both knew we just wanted to be next to each other, nothing less that night, and nothing more. Just together, your arm around me, because we're both tired of the feeling of waking up alone. Because we like to drink together and steal each other from whoever it is we are occupied by. Because I could write a book about loneliness. 


Now I wont even look at my phone because I want nothing to do with it.
Because I kept waking in and out of a dream where you were someone else. 
I kept dreaming of a place where the grass is greener. 

Doesn't it make you frustrated and depressed when no matter how much experience you have with something specific, you never seem to learn your lesson?


I wrote this sitting in the front seat of your car, why won't my heart stand still?

You know,

I really want to write about last night. I want to write down everything that happened after the four pints we  finished, after your confession, after I felt like dying when saying I could never feel the same. I wish I could talk about how I felt when we were sitting outside of the bar yesterday, when I told you I'm tired of being alone but it's the only way I could go about things. I want to write about the rest of my night when I met someone else. But it's all bullshit because I don't feel anything anymore. I had to drink to feel something last night. I used to stay sober to feel. Now I'm sober, and I can no longer write. 

Generations have been working in jobs they hate, just so they can buy what they don't really need.

"We don't have a great war in our generation, or a great depression, but we do, we have a great war of the spirit. We have a great revolution against the culture. The great depression is our lives. We have a spiritual depression."

Nihilism and Culture

I spent the past 9 months studying both. Nietzsche built me armour while my art history teacher made me mentally unstable. Nihilism is just so much easier than trying to understand culture. Spending years in a textbook, admiring the Renaissance, classics, Christianity.. Using Botticelli to fulfil your knowledge and understanding of the world. Listening to lectures and highlighting "important" points to remind ourselves that this world does not belong to us. The Birth of Venus, I look at it and I see bullshit. Of course I would choose culture over something as stupid as Nihilism, but today, it holds more significance, it’s obliging in the most perfect way. Culture dies. People die, everyday. I died last night, and this morning I woke up as someone else. Culture is processed, enhanced, forgotten, religion is biased, re-written, is the goal not progression? Maybe we forgot art. Maybe we never knew it, but even the Mona Lisa is falling apart.