why'd you let go of your guitar?
BETTER OFF INSIDE jan.28/2000
hey yeah lonely but the world is a better place without me actively participating in it. me and my violin are making out every day, and night. we are happy lovers, she and i. never thought i'd see the day, again. there are people in my house, loud laughter, the air of new years revelers. if my mother asks me how 'the jobhunting is going' i swear i will... what? stop fucking "hunting" altogether. i set out today, a sunny day, with the aim to spread my resume all over the city. i didn't drop off a single one. no one is hiring. and i am so far gone in the social skills department that i'm almost scary to these people. no good. i did manage to SPEND money though. ain't that great? here i am looking for a job, i have less than $200 to my name, and i spend half of that in one day. the very day meant to get me a fucking job. there wuz a comic in the Westender, i wish i had cut it out. Wait. the company downstairs may not be the greatest but i need to know i am human right now, so i'm going to go check with them. rub my psyche up against theirs and see what comes of it.
results are in; not a total human i am. "don't turn me home again, I just can't face myself alone again" that comic i wish i had cut out? a guy in a job interview. (I'll attempt to recreate it) the interviewer saying "what makes you a canditate to be on our team?" the interviewee says: "I'd really like a paycheque, so i can have money to pay my rent." bla bla bla, this great emphasis on these key words... many more frames of this desperate exchange before the interviewer breaks it to the guy "I don't think you're qualified or motivated enough to be a team player at our establishment." And we pan out to see that this particular establishment is none other than McDonald's. oh, glory
I'm dancing anywhere i can, anywhere outside of where my mind really is... I am still ill. I feel infected. "she's lost control again." my train of thought is chained to One. Thing.
BRING PEACE TO MY BLACK AND EMPTY HEART
i am keeping this all to myself. no amount of talking has soothed me thus far on this topic, why try? what could soothe me? say something. say something. this great fucking void in me, that i have always felt , but never been able to name. and now, knowing it by name, is this better? or is it better not knowing? I can't sit up straight. i'm oscillating between dead-soul catotonia by day and twisted mad writhing alone in my cold bed by night. i have no outlet for this. Or rather; every outlet that has never before failed me is now.. failing me. and i fear the judgements that may come in any confessions i may make in my fucking forlorn state. ("i'm beggin jesus believe, send him back to me")