(no subject)
It's not what I do or what I say. It's not the routine or the plan or how I write it down. This isn't an excuse or an explaination either; it's a free fall. I'm just dropping straight now - opening everything and letting in run crazily through the streets on impulse and imagination. A thirst that I drew in the corner of the page has smeared itself over the content in the most urgent and intentional way. This is specifically about the patterns that surface and dance for obsessive periods of outward disconnect and vacancy. What do I look like? What is a good comparison from some other time? I dream about parallel worlds that could have been and places that were before I hacked them apart like tree stumps or stubborn clams. I talk to Alyssa like a friend, like we used to and then I lay motionless in bed for slippery skips of time and try to understand what part of me is still so concerned with that bitch. Why am I still so angry? Do I need to control someone? What is this attention that I need so badly? What is this crazy level that I have reached? What have I vowed to create and release in order to fill the emptiness and isolation that being a goddamn freak in a pool of immense responsibility and distraction amid nerve wrecking howls for radicalism and continually mind murdering concessions to medicrity has burned out of my innocence.
I sand the little hairs out of my throat and nasal passages but it never feels good for long enough. I lived here for about two weeks on my own. It's just different. I love being alone and practically self-sufficent but the timing seems to have been a little stressful.
Where are we? Kyle lives at his house and comes over still. I don't know. He's the only person I know with the same open schedule. I'm moving on though. It's fucked up, but I don't know what to do anymore. I can't change and neither can he. I can move out and get my own place an hour away and - hey, that's awfully familiar!
This process is slower because I don't have Alyssa or anyone to fall back on. I don't have a place to get trashed and hook up with some reminder of living for a confidence booster and a circumstantial ax droppper. I have to do this with issues this time. I have so many issues with and during this break-up that my concentration and state of reality keep changing along with my will. Fuck this. All I need to is to get out more.