anger

i want to write, release this pain and anger i have, this gust of a hurricane that builds inside me, and when it comes time, i freeze. The exit if far too small for the load. a mental and emotional congestion occurs crippling all the words in my mind. stopping them, too much all at once. A million voices in my head all talking at the same time as if i were god. I don't believe in god, though i understand why god is needed. people are so shit that they need to fear. without it it seems people fear nothing. punishment , consequence, opinions, disease, nothing frightens those that lie, cheat, steal and abuse those that have trusted them. Men and women alike, live a gluttonous lives, filled with every desire at a whim, and ride it until they get caught, if they ever get caught. No fear, complete sanctification, getting their cake while eating it too. There is no moral authority above them, no punishment, no pain, no hell to burn in for eternity. only those left in a wake of pain by their manipulation and selfishness seem to burn in eternal flames of  disbelief and shock. God, i wish there were a God.

i guess i need to buy a pickup truck.

Fear

Amazing how fear cripples a man. Ironic how he can speak of fear running civilization into ignorance and greedy but he himself fears to love, to live an honest and simple life.

surrender

primitive writing.
i give up. only because you want me to.i have never felt so unwanted and alone as i do today. i only wanted you to pick me. but you kicked me out, just like all the others before you, made it clear you don't want to give me attention, love, loyalty. you designate that for others i suppose, younger, prettier, sluttier, famous, successful, etc. who would want someone like me? i am no one. i have nothing. no one has ever wanted me... the door is a familiar place for me. every man keeps showing it to me.

so i leave. without a final goodbye. without a sound... im just a small breeze that blew through.

i love you...

I remember

....

See

Can't think. Can't speak. This is what I see.

weekend

i didn't think i would write again. I didn't think i would need to, that i got a break and in turn would give the world a break with my redundant white noise.

i want to vanish. leave everything and everyone i know and live on the streets in a place like India. Just day to day survival, no friends, no one that will hurt me, no one that will know me, no one that will want to...no one does anyway.

thoughts, thoughts run through my head so fast. like a highway full of them speeding by. catch one. one less sitting in my head. can't even think like i use to. broken sentences. short.

a friend told me he too wasn't ready. ready for what i asked? ready to be with one person for the rest of my life he told me. i asked how that made sense? basically telling me that he is in love but there might be something better one day that might come along? he replied with a " ya i know it sounds stupid, but it's the way men think. it's backwards. we basically need a mother figure that will put up with our shit and tell us what we need." all this still didn't make sense. how can people live thinking then can tell the future? there will be something better? that they will hurt their partner? the only thing we do know is that we will die. and if we wait for something better, the best thing in life will pass us by. I asked him how that whole "non committal/not ready " thing worked out for him. he told me he regretted it.

can't make anyone ready. i know. i get a slice of heaven. rare pieces of what my life could be. don't want much in life. simple and honest love will suffice. but i only get a slice, a moment, a minute. never the dream. never the whole pie. just enough to get me salivating for more and keep craving it. have to sleep. try to. nothing makes sense to me. my mind is washed away with Novocaine. i was "the one". the best thing. i must have not been good enough. enough to want me. not famous enough. not an actress. a model. not even successful. i can see why when a man has the whole world of young girls to choose from, why i would be just "the good woman". "the wonderful person". but nothing spectacular. just a nice cooked meal, shelter, coffee and some sex while on the road. nothing more. nothing less. perhaps just a rebound from that Brazilian stripper. at the end of the day it doesn't matter. i was not the one apparently to him. sadly, it wasn't the same for me. it's always "sadly". for me anyway. the doormat. the no one. the one that enters their life, is welcomed, treated like a queen and then for no reason asked to leave. i should have better manners when shown the door. not knock again. just try to find my way home. confused. abandoned. alone.

i keep reliving that weekend in my mind. like a broken record. tired. monotone. stoned in the heart. heavy. empty. and always alone. it was such a warm fire. such a perfect embrace. two reunited butterflies fluttering on the same air.

delete.

the sting is like vodka on an open heart.

shock.