Problematic

Alcohol? My body? A knife? All are good options. I'm partial to words. My body and a bottle. The sting of conversation is enhanced when a loosened tongue lashes out with abandon because of it's had too many drinks pass over it. I've been trying to avoid myself. Through you. I've been trying to avoid being the person I can be with you. It hasn't been working, although there's no reason it shouldn't. Except that what little control I have I have lost. I've been on my medication for a little over a month., They've told me I can come off it. I've been shaking and laughing when I want to cry. I've had visions of beating myself unconscious hoping to bleed out. Of stabbing over and over to drain all the pressure of being alive out of my body. I've started screaming. Throaty roars over nothing. This has been the worst experiment. I don't like being my own experiment. A doctor's collaborative project. I'd rather have someone el

I am a garbage person. However, when you enter my home, while you can clearly tell by the trail of cat litter and garbage strewn across the entrance like rose petals, I have plugged in a Glade air freshener so at least one of your senses will be deceived. My teeth feel loose and I think this medication is making me crazy. But. I don't think I have dry sockets. So it appears I was able to sufficiently care for myself in a way that avoided complete disaster. This is a trend. I find a lot of my emotions and actions fall into similar categories. I wasn't able to commit to lemon sorbet so I got rainbow, which I then decided I never truly wanted. I wasn't able to commit to a guy so I juggled several and then realized that I have no idea what I ever truly wanted. The humming of my dryer is so loud it vibrates in my chest. In my head. Unbalanced things make a lot of noise. I have also discovered, some what neatly, that I can live with a persistent grip of panic through

Incidentally, I read recently that there is to be a new Elliott Smith themed podcast. I am not interested enough in podcasts at this point to dedicate myself to listening, but I was pleased and intrigued to find out this information. Perhaps I will listen to some podcasts on my ill-advised trip with my mother to Colorado this weekend. One that is also ill-planned, as they called me several weeks ago to let me know the departure times I purchased were no longer available and I still haven't called to set new ones. This is something I will do tomorrow- is something I have been telling myself for about a month or more? I don't think I was drunk when I planned this- but maybe I was? It's 11 am and there is a fine gray mist falling dreamily over the world. The only part of the world that is visible to me, anyway. The mist and I are all that exist in this quietly dripping landscape. The only sentient things, anyway. Whether trees can feel and think is something I debate with