(no subject)
I love hangovers. I love that delicious feeling when your muscles all just
want you to sleep but you know there is another party or a long night of
work ahead of you. I love not caring, where I slept, how long ago I showered,
how I look, or how much I have eaten in the last couple days. I love sex.
Touching, and grouping and sucking and biting and being way to fucked up
to know what is going on or who your with, but being on top anyways. I love
lying. To myself and everyone else who might just be a projection of myself.
I love drugs, falling into alternate realities which make so much more sense,
feeling poison enter your bloodstream, the morning after, the night before,
the finding it and buying it and taking it and then forgetting all the work
you put into that one crazy night and doing all again. I love death. I love
the feeling when I know that I am killing myself and that I dont care,
taking a drag or a hit of anything and knowing just for an instant exactly
what you are doing and then its too late to take it back. I am running to
rock bottom as fast as I can because it looks so sweet, and maybe my eyes
are bigger than my stomach but then I will just through it all up and revel
in my disheveledness. I cant wait to die. I love life and am going to wring
every drop of good and bad and dirty that I can out of it, but thats only
cause it will make death that much more satisfying. When I die I want it to
feel like passing out, after laying on the couch for hours too drunk and
too stoned to be awake or asleep and trying desperatly to do both until you
just stop trying and let go, except this time there wont be any morning
after, no one to yell at me, no consequences, no judgment, just rest for
ever. I think its time to go to bed...
want you to sleep but you know there is another party or a long night of
work ahead of you. I love not caring, where I slept, how long ago I showered,
how I look, or how much I have eaten in the last couple days. I love sex.
Touching, and grouping and sucking and biting and being way to fucked up
to know what is going on or who your with, but being on top anyways. I love
lying. To myself and everyone else who might just be a projection of myself.
I love drugs, falling into alternate realities which make so much more sense,
feeling poison enter your bloodstream, the morning after, the night before,
the finding it and buying it and taking it and then forgetting all the work
you put into that one crazy night and doing all again. I love death. I love
the feeling when I know that I am killing myself and that I dont care,
taking a drag or a hit of anything and knowing just for an instant exactly
what you are doing and then its too late to take it back. I am running to
rock bottom as fast as I can because it looks so sweet, and maybe my eyes
are bigger than my stomach but then I will just through it all up and revel
in my disheveledness. I cant wait to die. I love life and am going to wring
every drop of good and bad and dirty that I can out of it, but thats only
cause it will make death that much more satisfying. When I die I want it to
feel like passing out, after laying on the couch for hours too drunk and
too stoned to be awake or asleep and trying desperatly to do both until you
just stop trying and let go, except this time there wont be any morning
after, no one to yell at me, no consequences, no judgment, just rest for
ever. I think its time to go to bed...