Blackout Bottom
Okay. I'm going to write for as long as my fingers will obey.
I am sitting here waiting for the shuttle, cast in the flavors of all of my terror and all of the sinister faces of this orange pink, pink orange (I bash myself to sleep). And the chaos of the softly turned cigarette butts wedged between the rocky symmetry of those waves of bricks reminds me of last October (See Me Now!) and of the irony of how things go around and around and around. (Did I talk to Scheisser about drugs? I don't remember.)
That is starting to piss me off, by the way-- all of this memory loss! And GoldenFinch said that I called her to plead last night and I remember neither the phone call nor the feeling. (Record me with your fist!)
God, it's cold out! In the low 40's. And my naked chest cries out... I'm back! I'm back! (Although it doesn't mean a fuck to anyone else!) But the cold bites me now and I press my cheeks against eh cutting prism ever harder. (Branded forever?) And so that's how he knows all those drinks...
The subway sweeps below and I balance between the bricks and the grate.
Oh, but today I went to A La Vielle Russie with GoldenFinch! And I saw a world, again, that I would die for and it shocked her and those beautiful crystallized truths shone in her eyes and I saw all of the perfection in enamel that people say can only come from God! Of all the places to find it... In enamel! But it was so beautiful and it was so perfect! And now I have to go pick up the remains of my heart in a backpack and never wonder again why I have no time (or money!). It is all there for the taking when I really want it.
Oh, but that trip would be so much fun! And spindle branches cover the trees and my stomach lurches through the width of the window. I love car windows at night and sip in the melon flavored traffic lights and I wonder if motion sickness is at all related to any kind of these other weird symptoms. (God, the bridge!)
But I spent way too much money yesterday... $80 on coke! But if I stop eating then I can save a lot of money that way... Two more days and I should be able to starve again.
Okay, well, the bus is shaky and I want to look out the window, so I will close for the moment...
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Anyway. later and in the computer lab waiting for Scheisser to finish typing. (I think he is on "spell-check.")
It really worries me, what KSing said about ChoirMan though... that things may be too much. Maybe his no reaction is like B's no reaction... fear or discomfort.
My foot just fell asleep and I am wondering if it's from the two days of being good. And Scheisser keeps switching off my Walkman. Alright. My headache is grounding everything (as usual)... The only constants are change and headaches.
And I wonder what that phone call meant. Oh well... we will see tomorrow.
-Must go!
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So, I am sitting here bored out of my fucking mind on the couch, but dread, dread, dread going home to do my chromatic homework. (It's 11:33 PM).
And sometimes I wonder about taking procrastination to a new level (and I feel likes shit doing this... YOU know what I mean) and understand what really demeaning behavior is... And now I have no way of getting home and I haven't' done my homework and that makes me feel even worse about everything else. (God, I wish I could read thoughts!)
And the skin on my hands is rosy and scrubbed (Kitty!) to its rawest form and I feel like I can't even write anymore because my mind is soft and blank and I am so bored but with so much energy and I remember nothing nothing nothing and God, how I remember nothing! And it scares me and I am really scared when I think about what this means and what is happening to my mind and what I will do if I lose myself to this thing, to alcohol, and commit the ultimate betrayal. (And I was just wondering about spelling!)
So I feel sick of myself right now and want to give myself away, but I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't and I don't know what will happen, except that I'm sitting here with this shit instead of doing homework and there is something really wrong with the way that this whole thing is going!
And I wish to be back in the museum, solidified, and with no obligation, no time, no anything because it's warped, warped, warped and then I wouldn't need it anyway. And so I feel it wash over all of me now. And I know... I know...
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