So what's today's special? Regret with a side of melancholia?
Very funny.
Now for you, that's ironic. No?
No. What are you doing here. I did not invite you over.
You did. You called me.
I did not do that.
You want me here.
....
You want me here.
Perhaps.
You're never sure of anything.
I know. Oh fuck you.
Yes. Fuck you too.
You're quite remarkable at being silent and painfully deafening at the very same moment, although that isn't the attribute I'd proudly be showing off.
So I resumed the awkward position. The position I haven't touched or gotten to know. And then I do my thinking. Most of my thinking happens on the moving thing. Motionless but moving. I do my thinking everywhere, it really is starting to bug people.
All in all, it ended in a pretty pathetic note. I didn't look at him, and he didn't look at me. Perhaps we're both ashamed, ashamed of different things, I suppose.
Some days you will find rest a friend. Other days you seem to have no recollection of meeting it. Clarity is of secondary importance. I want to rest.
I took a good look at them, some were running. The others acted normally. However you define normal. I sat there until someone told me to smile a little.
I keep forgetting.
What is the most essential thing in your life right now?
Lip balm.
Iniatiating a conversation with someone who doesn't want to talk to you is difficult. Initiating a conversation with someone is a lot harder when you're not very much the talkative kind. Sigh.
7 and a half trigonometric questions. Indulged in self-destructive behaviour. Clogged my arteries. Slept. Slept some more. Cleaned the oven. Conditioned my hair.
I feel accomplished. Ha.
It's ridiculous. I miss what I had and I had what I miss.
He went into a trance. Quite ironically, the trance shocked him. It persisted to have its way and gradually he gave in. He used time as an excuse to disguise his blemishes and deficiencies. His ability to feel. Not only that, he even manipulated time, and tricked it to be on his side. He does not take losing very well but will never say it out loud. Not to you.
What were you thinking. Who are you to want anything? Who are you to want anyone.
You are a mess nobody needs to clean up. It's your responsibility to look after your thoughts and what they do to you. No one has the right to tell you what to do but unfortunately bigotry and individualism do not mix. All you is detoxification. Of the wants and needs that do not go hand in hand. You will enjoy forgetting tomorrow the way you hate remembering today.
Don't blame this disease for your disorder.
181 days, 6 hours and 17 minutes ago
I couldn't tell whether it was intentional or accidental. I broke the glass, yes I know, but the rest was a little blurry. Funny how I'm not even sure anymore.
194 days and 57 minutes ago
Bloody fcking inhibitions.
197 days, 10 hours and 59 minutes ago
Songs to make you feel like hell. And songs to make you feel like you're missing out.
203 days, 6 hours and 51 minutes ago
Sullen and broody. Yes, those are the words.
204 days, 5 hours and 45 minutes ago
I kept thinking I was going to tell her but then I remembered. Sigh. Those flower patterns.
207 days and 45 minutes ago
It was better when it was tender. No expressions to look out for, and
no history behind any smile or tear. Although not exactly tearless, but
each one shed was for a reason.
The only guiding principle is to remember that the unpleasant can turn into something worse.
210 days, 4 hours and 50 minutes ago
I was there and decided that it was really a pretense. I couldn't figure out why but it feels a little disgusting to be in this skin.
I don't want to leave.
You can't stay. You can choose to, but you know that isn't an option.
Give me a reason.
You wreck everything. You fuck up and you wreck everything. Yourself, even.
But I don't mean to.
I know. It's sad, I know.
I missed something on tv because I thought today was yesterday and yesterday was today. The tv show is not the point.
You are to inform her of your inability to function before she decapitates herself. Or perhaps she would just stop talking. She would say the sacred things when she promised she'd hold her tongue and joke about grave matters and finally sieve through her pervasive thoughts of impurities.
We were at a party. It's always a party in my head.
We are at a party.
It always begins with random conversations. In these cases, I am never the instigator, never have been and perhaps never will be. You are by a corner and I converse with the people I don't know and perhaps don't like as much either.
I've forgotten how I made you stay, or go. I'm not sure which connotation suits the description in my head.
I don't remember her ever looking strong. She had a kind of fragility, one that's apparent and quite latent at the same time. I don't remember her ever looking strong. She was made of strength. In essence, she is strength. The so-called geniuses gave her time. They allocated the remaining space she deserved to own. The remaining seconds of her life that she was granted, to be spent in her intended fashion and intended ways, were given the way you'd give candy to a diabetic child. Reluctant. This is not to say they're without fault. We are all to blame. But we musn't be so egocentric, for the main character in this somber play is her. I must say, she played herself somewhat defiantly.
For a moment, I could not understand. I understood that it was raining and it might be long before the sun would stop playing hide and seek. Or perhaps just playing hide. Several times, I questioned her. I questioned everyone. Every single motherfucking being I could question. Higher beings or/and lower ones.
I can say it now.
I'm battling my depression and my decline. I suppose it would be a lot easier on me and things if I tried making friends with them. But you don't be friends with people who use you against yourself. They like to eat me up. I don't mind. It's been a while. It's a routine. It's a schedule. Oh look at me, egocentricity and whatnot.
Just the other day, I proposed a lovely thought to her. It was lovely at the time, to me. I could tell she was taken aback. Surprised that someone like me would say such a thing to her. She agreed. She said yes. Naturally, I felt quite embarrassed, to the extent that the plan was never executed at all. What a shame. What a shame.
To be continued. Or not.
Today's word is resentment.
I suppose she felt some. For the life she lived, the one she was tricked into living. Towards the people breathing around her. She seemed lovely enough to hold on to.
I don't have a gift. I am incapable of producing light for the ones I seem to care enough to think of what they'd like me to do. Damned prepositions. I can say the things I mean that don't mean a thing, which is why there are few attempts of my doing so. I grow tired being the expected end of expectations. I am no good at such things. I try, of course, I won't lie.
I, I and I. Damned narcissistic streak.
I wouldn't wish for any alterations on her behalf for her sake, or mine.
I forget. We forget.
I'd never admit it to her but I enjoyed the spaces I had. The shapes we made. Whatever's left of them. I remember there was once, right after the awakening, I found traces of her. I couldn't keep them, but they reminded me of her. They were enough for that moment. The inevitable task of forgetting makes us humans. It makes us weak. Fallable, but certainly weak.
I forget the smells and taste of what I thought was precious and should be protected or preserved. I've traded principle for principle, in order to keep up with time. I joined you too soon. Too fast to realise that it might not be good or right for me. I've passed the laps, and now I think I'm slowly hitting the brakes.
I cringe at the thought of being needed by somebody. They shouldn't want me, or need me. Or care. It's much better for them.
I woke up, severely agitated.
They fed me chocolate and candy. And pacified me.
I've never understood his fascination with knives. Cornelius never told me.
Cuts and bruises don't make you human.
