i cant sleep: august 25, 2010

quote:
i realize that from the cradle up i have been like the rest of the race- never quite sane in the night.
mark twain

x

i am never sane at night, not much during the light either come to think of it. off-kilter in general. i keep working on this song of mine. i try to sleep and then new chords and piano melodies pop into my head. it's lovely, but i'm trying to sleep, goddamnit. so i race half-starkers to the computer to flesh it out before i forget it. which reminds me, i think there's melodies i've sung to my phone to remember. twelve new gashes in my legs. so fucking stupid. i'm throwing that blade out when i get back to alberta. i missed vancouver, but i think there's a melancholy with it, i can't figure it out. i think about old dreams and all the water in them. i think about how ophelia pictures are always beautiful, yet in actuality, drowning victims are bloated and water-logged and quite possibly green. i'll take my darling ophelia. asphyxiation frightens me, yet inhaling water peacefully sounds well, i'm not sure. fucking tom. fucking ivan. fucking mum. fucking fucking fuck. stop keeping me awake. i'm anxious enough. the chakra woman's messed with my inner chi or some shit again, i think. the point of it is to achieve neutrality, and since i told her the other day that i'm still pretty fucked, i noticed today that i've literally felt nothing. she must be envisioning my spinal chord pretty fucking hard.

i cant sleep: august 16, 2010

quote:
life is something that happens when you can't get to sleep.
fran lebowitz

x

thinking about how irritating the new cut on my leg is, how dumb i've been today, so many moodswings, my song lyrics -sofuckingwastedthoughticouldchasethispipedreamsareforbeautyqueensandchasingeverlastingprettyliesinyoureyes-
how much i wish i could have a beer, or ten, infidelity, i forgot what the word sycophant means, i should treat adam better, why am i so anxious to talk to someone i've never talked to before? i think dr. hay will probably put me on anxiety meds after these new panic attacks, fuck, i wish someone would just give me weed, that's all i want, no i want money too, fuck, i miss vancouver, i want to go swim in the ocean, i hate how fucked up i am, i'm tired of being so fucking tired, what am i going to do with spencer? i wish i had a cuddle buddy. fuck.

hi, how are you?

i've only already got a dozen other blogs, but as due to tom's suggestion, one related to the things that i physically write in my journals might be interesting. fuck it.