(no subject)
I've got all the white paint in the world. Some days I get really sick of trying. I'm always looking two and a half feet to the left often causing me to run face first into walls. At the exact moment I start to notice all the beauty the elephant plops right down onto my chest. I can't see past its big grey ass. There's nothing wrong with making chocolate chip cookies and watching movies in black and white. On Thursday at 11:30pm. Someone's walking up the driveway and my iPod's on the bathroom counter. There's a little dixie cup on the desk next to the bed but I don't want to touch it. There's too much to be done. There's too much that isn't getting done. I think my brain just twitched. Anyway. They interview me next week. If all goes well I'll be in Siena by February. The elephant is still sitting on my chest. But he's reverted back to infancy. A baby elephant could still crush my ribcage. Collapse my lungs. In any case, the cigarettes will take care of that. I had my hair pulled back so tight that my head hurt. I let it down and my scalp fell off. I might drill a hole in my exposed skull just to see what happens. You must think I'm crazy by now but I assure you, I'm much better than I've ever been. I still think a lot. A lot of the time. Once in a while I still like to throw a fragment in amongst the complete sentences. I don't know if I'm speaking in metaphors but I have a feeling it doesn't really matter. Fucking technology! Deliver my messages already. I'm afraid there's something terribly wrong going on with him. But I have no way of knowing because I got cut off. Just when everything was about to start going right the line went dead. Now all I get are side glances and snide remarks. If I'm lucky he sends me his voice in some file with some name. Marked demo. To be continued when I don't show up to class. Maybe I'll show up. Maybe I'll go. Show up at the show. It's a long shot but maybe it's enough to show that I care, that I'm sorry. I never forgot. Late nights. (annoying little noise) Why did I turn those back on? "Are you free tomorrow?" I'm free today - more free than I was yesterday. More so tomorrow. Maybe you should rephrase the question because I'm busy and there's no time left for rhetorical nonsense. I'll be busier tomorrow. One more day down the drain. I'm running myself in circles to try to get the bugs out of my brain. I'm not looking to the left this time. I'm not looking at all. I'm not waiting either. I don't have any more time for that. I'm working on inventing a machine. It will crawl into my skull via my ear canal and periodically stab my brain with a teeny tiny knife. I've got all the white paint in the world. As soon as I find a brush I plan on whiting you out.