Booze and GoldenFinch

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God! I can't leave here and it is only worse and worse and worse because I have fallen so much in love with the sky and all of the clouds are nothing but illustration here and I sit in the shadows of sunlight against his ancient iron drapes and skirts of fantasy with cool dreams of Mexico pressed up against my neck and gliding softly down my throat.

And I have no cares, no cares, no cares and I really don't care about anything except for the bright blue and white molding that teases the sky in imitation and the hot arms of my hair against my neck and my eyes read "S'KCEB" and I smile! smile! smile!

And I miss no one and nothing and I have been reborn! reborn! reborn! (When will the baby die? Or is she a still life? I mean still born?)

God, please stop eternity now and never make me leave!

DON'T MAKE ME LEAVE!!!

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Later, well 5:00 AM Russian time and I'm still up with a pounding headache and fucked as all hell. I just spent $500 on a phone call to GoldenFinch and I wonder just how I will explain that one. But chocolate, coke, rock and my headache make sense of everything all over again and I infinitely wonder why the HELL I do that to her over and over and I want to fucking kill myself for screwing it all up again (as usual!).

I have only four more hours to go (4 fucking hours!) until 9:00 AM and life scalds me again and no wonder he was pissed!

I can see the scars and even I realize that I am a maniac (the fucking optimist!). And that this headache is worse than almost any (and why the fuck COULDN'T I stay out until now???) You god damn roach Patsy Cline! Oh Go... Patti Smith... not you! Not now!

Anyway, this is a dead city (Longs to be Free) Seven screaming horses mating in the sun!

Oh God! My head has never been worse and I want to cower in fear and I wonder how long it will be until I am not drunk anymore. And I wonder how GoldenFinch could have said I babbled! How could she have called it "aggravating babble about the pointless nature of life?!?" You know what? Screw her if that's what she thinks! And if that's what she believes it all is!

I should really go shield my t-shirt. Maybe around 7:00 AM I will do it. I want to reread Crime and Punishment all tonight. But I know I never will and I want to drink that coke, but fear losing the taste of night that still lingers softly in my mouth. (Ne me quitte pas!) But I know that they all will!

Well, Jacques, what do you and I need them for anyway? They want to know one but they know only lies, lies, lies. And I can't believe that I was willing to light the dorm on fire for all of this. (God! My head!!!)

And the sun has already come up and leaves me desperately scratching (at) beneath all the surfaces (regeir le feu!).

Oh God, my head will kill me now! Oh anguish! Oh agony! O Melodrama! :) Ne me quitte pas!

Anyway, so I have been hearting after him anew (my savior, that is), only he has a new name and a new face and I want my bag and I haven't slid down a wall like that for over a year, and it frightens me how easy and how familiar it all was.

(God, though... I am grateful that GoldenFinch wants to see me and so does Anxious) .

And I wonder how they escaped all of this agony.

I'm going to get my shirt now. I'll be right back.

Okay, so I'm back and I've popped two no-name pills, although I still feel like shit (snowblind now...woosh! Ooh! Ooh!)

And I am sorry that no one was impressed and that I only appeared hopelessly fucked for the whole show. Maybe after this one (2) I will have the coke. (After meeting my lips with wasted striped felt and moldy gray bread.)

Anyway, I am getting tired fo writing... but still have over three hours to go...