I’ve published nearly 2000 entries on my personal diary. Here’s a piece cobbled together from 3 different entries I made in 2010.
slip in silent and blinking lights. if only i could sleep. and not dream, because maybe i am asleep, or maybe i’m not, but i can’t tell the difference anyways, between me and sleep. if i believed in souls, i would believe that mine is trying to claw its way out of my stomach and into yours.
again, and nauseous. so i sweat, and i sweat, and i sweat and every minute is a hospital, and i am rushing in and dying every single second. and you are hours away from being here, where i need you.
i think the blood in my body is trying to rip itself out of my arms in nicely razor inflected lines – which isn’t a conscious fault of my own, it’s more like destiny knocking on the door of my feeble mortality. get numb, girl friend, there’s nothing left to do. until then, inebriated intoxicated irrelevant insouciant in every inch of this existence, gutter fuck and all that shit.