(no subject)
And I thought skipping town would make me feel better.. "Monday, humiliation. Tuesday, suffocation. Wednesday, condescension. Thursday is pathetic. By Friday, life has killed me. By Friday, life has killed me. Oh pretty one, why did you give me so much desire when there is nowhere I can go to offer this desire? Why did you give me so much love in a loveless world, when there's no one I can turn to to unlock all this love? And why did you stick me in self-deprecating bones and skin? Jesus, do you hate me? Why did you stick me in self-deprecating bones and skin? Do you hate me, do you hate me, do you hate me?" In seeking out comfort in large crowds, I discovered the art of feeling even more alone. By train, by bus, by car, by foot. Twenty-four hours felt like twenty-four days. Yet through the weight of my depression, I'm realizing that a lot of things were proven to me that I chose to ignore through my "Wah wah, I'm hurt" default mentality. I visited Fullerton Ave and thought about Slapstick and how Tim will forever bleed my blood. I took an hour to visit Vanessa and observed how gorgeous she looked in her pink top and how comforting a few simple words can be. And Erica, this dame I need not even compliment, seeing as how anyone who knows me knows she offers me a fair amount of generosity at such an average pace. Recently, this pace included soap, a shower, and a few naps in her bed. Nicole? I won't say a thing about this gal seeing as how I'm at risk of her communist roommates detecting any leak of crucial information on my part involving their upcoming revolution. On a sidenote to that; Goodfellas felt great, the morning did not. I sat on subways with my headphones on, sinking into You Are the Quarry deeper and deeper. I tried to drink a beer or two, I tried to sleep at least an hour through. My cowardice kept me awake, with one eye open in fear of the tallest buildings of Chicago swallowing me whole. Even with all of these splendid people and all the glorious pity they offered me, I couldn't help but feel myself flushed deep within an underworld of city sanitation pipes. I felt disgusting and alone, and too far away from home. A lovely girl told me I smelled like shit and I believed her. We left her apartment around noon and rode the brown line awkwardly for a while, followed by her disappearing down a public staircase. It was too hot in the windy city. I tried so hard to keep from sweating for I hate the act of sweating yet it was of no use. By the time I even had the time to break a sweat, I was overcome with the urge to get the fuck out of dodge. And I did. I jumped on the bus and got to Union Station in record time, only to become befriended by a friend who was not really a friend at all. Despite the forty dollars he scored off me, I'll remember him only by his words and what they meant to me, and also the lesson learned. In line for the train, I ran into random by spotting an infamous Julie Wager. Though the mission she was conducting was quite the polar opposite of my own, she assisted me in getting drunk off my ass on eight dollar Amtrak wine. Not to mention, two beautiful friends pulling up in the parking lot to pick me up from the train station. All of it makes me think, too much, more than I do. Maybe this life isn't as bad as my immediate conscious makes it out to be. Maybe, just maybe, I should attempt to balance all of these chemical imbalances that sway my mind upside down and all around in such an inconvenient flood of thoughts and insecurities. Perhaps I should take into account who truly loves me, and those who will never desert me in any shape or form. The Smail, Crucial Strucel, T-Bone, & J-Tho. My four apostles, my stereo intelligence. They understand all of the guitars, the girlfriends, the guilt, & the unfortunate and gruesome acts of others. This whole time I've had my head up another girl's asshole while I should have been smelling the piss sprayed around me by my brothers, my only true lovers. My fellow obscure animals who remain on the streets, out to taste every blood type. They're out to drink the cleanest vein, and I'm blessed to consider myself cared for by their cunning and calculating minds. We're vampires and we're thieves. We're everyone's worst nightmare and we'd never have it any other way.