downtown train
10/29/2003 03:59 p.m.
ah, but where am i...? back in the fog of words, the clear fog, as it may seem? who am i now? someone who has had all barriers broken, who has been forcibly calcified, who has become raw? i drink myself to sleep some days. i smoke more than i used to. i don't write for myself. it's odd to note that it's me doing these things. but i don't know what the driving force is, if it's real or an emergency psyche thrown up by my system as a reaction, as a way to keep breathing in the absence of what i thought i understood to be real and myself. i suppose no one ever knows; but i feel wrong these days, a little off. there isn't the same impending sorrow and tumultuous confusion. in its stead there is physical clenching and pain, drinking and smoking, self-destructive longings unattached to any real emotion. i am an automaton, in many ways. at least it's something, who the fuch do i think i am, saying these things? it's bullshit, it's all crap and i can't fathom words more vain...but these are all i have. these are what comes from me. so, vain. fuck it, that's fine, i'll be vain, and i'll sit in this pool of anger and hurt like an amphibian soaking it through my skin. fine. that's fine. i'm going to check my mail.
I am currently Disillusioned
I am listening to the tom waits in my head