cravings

sometimes I think I might be happy.
onto something, small as a toenail clipping held between the fingers.
a tiny sliver of moon. a little snowflake of dust.
I look at it with such longing and pride.
waiting for it to blossom into something bigger.
just as I bend my head to the sky, breath deeply.
look down and find it gone. my hand is empty. my life incomplete.
the cinima inside my head rewinds to happier times. the only ive ever know.
I think of extacy. of molly. I think of coke. and meth. I think of speed.
I think of a rushing feeling. and sudden release. my tension CUT.
I think thats all ive ever wanted. its all I need.

just talk

splurge. "my egos like my stomach, it keeps shitting what I feed it"
you dont know hell. not like everyone does. your own personal hell-
lives in your gut, that you experience entirely alone.
Ill tell you a little about mine. my mind is on a one way track-
it repeats itself like a child that isnt being heard.
obsessive. compulsive. I feel hollow, living from one sad lonely pleasure to another.
there is no reasoning. it wants pleasure, all the time. and settles for small fixes.
DO SOMETHING TO MAKE ME FEEL OKAY.
GET HIGH. MAKE HIM LIKE YOU. BINGE. EAT. FUCK. THROW IT UP.
i am a prisoner to my disire, but there is no lust. no enjoyment.
just a pathetic pursuit to make one singular moment more barable.
Im not the person i pretend to be. and its evident when I lose my filter.
I resort to a nervous passive mess. my eyes cannot meet yours.
I wonder if you notice how fucking insecure I am.
If only I could see myself like they do. do they see???
do they know im begging for aproval every second in their company.
when im with someone I feel okay. everything I do is to just try to feel okay.
I dont want to be this way forever. I dont want to live like this.
but maybe theres beauty in hell. in fire. and pain. and self destruction.
its a twisted pleasure. its depression that loses luster. grey and murky, without love.
where is love? why am I always left out of the loop. and dont tell me its fucking normal to feel this way.
I dont want to be normal, in anyway. I like being my own entitee of chaos.
maybe thats why I refuse to change. to better myself.
subconsiously I am happy to sit in my misery.
my own filth feels good between the legs.
cleanliness is to mainstream for me.

searching for something worthwhile.
the color yellow comes to mind. sunshine. teeth. certain flowers.
and all things green. even puke. grass. salad. a vast ocean. my hoodie.

I think im dying. a little.

in some places, so growth can exist in others.
showing syptoms of warm body syndrom.
still in love with the world, trying to break everyones heart-
but they get to me first. so my focus is reseeding onto more solid, more reliable passtimes.
Ive been drawing. reading. eating. sitting with misary, drugless and documenting it.
stole a string cheese the other day. walked up to walgreens to get toilet paper.
complusive gum chewer.

first post in a while

Ive moved up to Lynnwood with my mom and her boyfriend adam,
and so far things are going well. I lost complete control over everything-
but its dripping back to life. I am stronger now. I no longer cringe with fear.
I got arrested two weeks ago for a run away charge, and posession of cocaine.
having spent the night before convulsing, dry heaving in a garage-
abused, left in the cold, needing to put out in order for that asshole
to let me sleep somewhere warm and dry. I was hallucinating, and hearing voices.
couldnt tell if I had overdosed, or was just sick and withdrawling already.
So I was happy to sleep in a cell for a night. happy to have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
happy to be warm, and safe, and away from the things that got me there.
When the officers called my grandparents- they refused to pick me up.
all my other family memebers also refused, or where unable to come.
So the officers called my grandparents again and got permission to let me leave on my own.
they gave me a bus pass, and my shoes, and belongings, pointing me to the door.
I went down town and met up with my "boyfriend" whom I had met for the first time the day before.
he held me, with such convincing emotion saying how badly he missed and worried for me.
we say down, I was thinking. he spoke up "we shouldnt get the morning after pill, I think you should keep the baby if your pregnant. I want a family" I told him no of corse, and realised he was crazier than I was. but spoke down to me in a way that seemed like he knew. very...paternal and stern. all knowing. It was comforting, and I would find myself weaker listening to him, forgeting my better judgment, considering things I shouldnt be considering. My grandparents letting me go was the greatest thing anyone had ever done for me. That night I slept under a bridge and whatched bumbs shoot up. Angelo held me, and we fucked in the cold. seporatly, my back to his chest, and I just layed there. staring at the sleeping junkies. unaware of what the fuck was happening to my life. he was always such a selfish lover. I provided a hole to fill, and he neglected everyother part of me. such shitty sex. The next day I was craving some speed so badly I began to cry, I left angelo- told him I was done and he got angry and walked out of my life. I felt so much more capable on my own but without him I recieved a lot of unwanted attention. a man smoked me a joint and then asked for sex, another tried to lure me into chinatown prostitution. I became sick again and started shaking and crying. needed drugs more than anything- but the lifestyle was to frightening alone. I came to a train station and aproached one of the ticket salesmen. he let me call my mom and as soon as I got on the phone I began to sob. He bought me a train ticket and asked me if I had seen pay it forward. I said yes and promised to turn my life around, and mumbled some other dopey shit, and he said he had no idea what I was talking about- but I should get an id card. I said ok and borded the train. I got to seattle on wed and was miserable. I tried to forget everything but the memories where on loop. sober, I could recall things with a better understanding. I had been drugged, and raped in his bedroom- but didnt understand it at the time. "no im to high to fuck, i cant do this" and he says "no, your not to high" the speed he gave me made it to where I couldnt move. the next day we acted like it didnt happen. maybe he was suprised when it didnt phaze me but my self respect was so low it really didnt. it didnt seem unusual at the time that I would say no and he would keep going. hes a guy, hes horney, were still friends. Thinking about it became to much and I left my moms appartment sunday night looking for trouble. made my way to a hotel room with two guys and smoked meth. we drank beer, and then I got fingered by whats his name. he couldnt go through with sex because Im closer in age to his kid than him. but he tried again, and I said no he has his chance I was done. his concience battling his balls. "...it turns me on when you say no" but he couldnt do anything about it. I left, came home feeling ill with myself. I got drunk, and apparently went off on this rampage about how I needed a guy who could treat me like shit. use me. these guys are all pussies. when I got home I tried to hid it, but had to explain to my mother what had happend. she said she wasnt angry. she tried to get me to eat, and gave me a trazadone cuz I was incapable of sleep. now its been six days scince I have used. I feel better about myself each day, and am regaining clarity and peace of mind. I dont know why it was nessicary for things to get to such a dark and low point- but it was something I had to experience. self destruction followed through until the last bad thing I could possibly have done to myself was suicide. which would have been a fucking relief. but Ive survived. Im listening. Im breathing. Ive gotten it all out of my system, so the internal rumbling is still. so tierd of drugs, and disgusting sex. Im do yoga now, and whatch tv. I dont go out much, or at all. you could say im hiding. burrowed away from it all, but its better than the alternative.

i still hate my life

on the hunt for some co co co cocaineeeeeeeee.
im my brainnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn.
everything hurts. I just wanna die.
maybe if I was pregnant Id have an excuse to call him.
I was doing so well, but sitting at the bus stop in the sun-
memories flooded back. and I need to get out of this fucking house.
I dont want to be here anymore. I dont want to be anywhere.
started shaking today during break, and I think everyone noticed.
I dont give a fuck. Im loosing my mind. Life feels more like a video game than anything.
pixels that mean nothing. no one has feelings. everyone has an agenda, and a mission-
and will fuck you over on their way. The acid I took yesterday has made my thoughts so blurry.
ontop of an already pending unstable mind set, It helped little.
coke though. thats just warm and fuzzy.
no worries.
no worries.
no worries.

finally got a good hookup through Raven,
so tomorow ima be on that shit like fuckn flies on honey.

You think im depressed?
You think im suicidle?
nahhhh. its mexican soup for dinner.
Im not passing that up.