Weight Training

I bring it on myself. I make it an effort too. I want it. I'm tired. I'm outraged. I want more. I can feel it all boiling, all white. I don't want anyone here, or around, or near. You don't want to either, but you won't do anything to prevent me. 

Without the cotton cover, I cry. I cause it all to go away, and I cry. I want it to all go away and then I want it all to rush back but what impression have I left on anything to deserve it? My plan, my plan to make it all go away and then I can go away but something always comes back because I try to make it. I want to stop wanting it, to stop trying to get it back, to be able to keep it away. 

Sammy is all there really, really is. Sammy. But dogs can't love, right asshole? Dogs can't love. Why love someone who doesn't love you, right asshole? Why love someone who doesn't love you. I can't even remember what I just wrote. I can't remember time. If it all went away it would be super easy knowing I don't know how to be. I don't know how to be. Or what I already am being.

It's so close. I can feel it. It makes my stomach tingle and my chest heavy. I need another push, pushes. Many.

Water Off My Shoulders

It's rolls right off like rain down my cheeks. It feels like breathing for the first time. What I'm describing I do not feel. But it's out. How old are my friends? How old are my enemies? When are their birthdays and how have they grown? I couldn't tell you any of that at any moment. Age has slipped the wrinkles of my mind and experience is only remembered in my dreams. When I think about what I have I can only think of what I've thrown out. My exhaustion caused by my retirements so early in the day because I don't desire to contemplate. My mind feels like a yarn ball, some how it is organized but to get to the core, the essence that I need to know, I have to dig through a constant mess. Time is no long part of my life, time has no importance to me as I am. I shovel to find something to hold me, to catch me, but I'm left with only dirt. My mom is grateful, but I'm in a type of despair without my knowledge. I am unaware of myself, and will remain so. I am not grateful. Individual loss is of no weight, but the general term and process with result carries all the mass. Impressions are the tie. The benefit of knowledge. 

I cannot be nice without being who I am not. I suppose my dilemma is I'm not entirely sure of my qualities. In my eyes they are the truth, in others unexplained happenstances. I can only continue. 

Won the War

Connection lost, plug pulled. I've finally won, shes finally given up. I can't believe it took so long. Those small arrogances, the optimism, the narrow-mindedness, it's off the plate. Another freedom for myself to enjoy. 

In Maslow's eyes I'd never reached anything past physiological needs, and hes right. Maslow, you cunning man. Safety has caused me to stop abruptly resulting in the wonderful "gift" of not needing self-actualization, or esteem, or belongingness and love needs. Call it unlucky, I prefer it. It's given me the freedom, the ability to win the war. Maslow as my leading general. And even in this one war that I've succeeded in reaping the award, I've still got plenty of other wars that I'll surely win with time, with the right amount, or should I say lack, of appropriate/positive response. Because we can all point out the weak minded, the low motivation, and the lack of facts. 

If I past safety needs, if I carry on to belongingness and love, and I find my "gift" ceases, then I will know this. Why would you want someone who so readily opposes you? Who so often annoys you? Who so naturally is of no value to you? Someone who in order to make happy you have to lie to about feelings? As I heard some place, some where, why love someone who does not love you back? What is to keep you pulling and pushing in such a situation?

I do know when to give up, only it's not giving up, it's letting go my choice, by force for happiness. It's tossing what does not benefit you, and what you do not benefit, into the trash bin which people try so eagerly to keep clean, so they do not learn. Mine, however, is messy as all can get, but not full, no. 

As I said previously, it's only a deck of cards. I can buy another.

Even Now I Do Not

I was sleeping until I awoke with heartache. She was home and still not a word silked it's way over my lips, no "I love you" no "How was your day". The silent protest brings nothing but salt water drops when you realize how silent the reaction is. Even now it will all calmly wash over my face at it pales and my nose cringes with disappointment. Even now it will all caress my lids and whisper sweet, wrinkled memories of youth and comfort. All the days spent out of home, out of heart, but knowing at any time I can return. But now knowing that I am struck out of home without choice only to watch my home be demolished, burned and never rebuilt, I feel the sudden need both physiologically and psychologically for that home and once rebuilt I feel I won't ever leave, stuck in a mental youth with my thumb in my mouth.

I hear the rush in my ears and bring my face together, inhale deeply and blink until I can see again. My temples hurt as my sleeves are dampened. I beg, I hope, I wish to be caught by her. To wail in her face or at her back and hope some motherly instinct takes over to console. 

Even now she does not.

Hammer To The Cheek Bone

It's been two nights now that my bedtime has been postponed due to sleep running away from me. I'm exhausted and furious at small things. My rats making noise cause me to throw things at their cage just to frighten them into stillness. The smallest urge to find me out causes me to spill like a sliced pool side or sack of jelly. I feel uneasy leaving home. I wake up feeling I ate bad food. I wake up shaky, tired, upset, as if I've slept on rock in winter. 

Even as Jack continues his strumming I am found still yet in a merciless distress. My mind is no where I can detect. Thoughts leave me as they come, quickly and without introduction. 

Stay or leave, either will kill. And in this chair I'll sit till they die and I am rendered safe, alone, and free.

As I anticipate calmly, waiting calmly, planning calmly, I prepare myself for the onrush of that feeling yet to come. As I wait I will degrade my body till it is as weak and frail as reality has led me to be, till I am prepared to build it up again.

Jammed

It's that time of the season again and it's all rushing back at full throttle like a bull with turbojets. Up down up down up down. Tiny things. Sam messed up my bed, I hate him. But in the morning I'll love him. Up down up down up down. A conversation was interrupted and theres a warm spot where I sat in the hallway to moan, groan, and shriek. Up down up down up down. My throat is clogged, my chest covered in goosebumps but boiling on the inside but in the morning I'll be fine. Side to side, left right left right. Knowing you're on the other side of those walls and all I can think is we aren't even related. I'm a roommate with spoils. Now all I do is sway as I wipe my eyes. I'm dizzy with sickness, with fumes and smoke. My stomach heaves ho! Heaves ho! I try not to I try so hard but there it is like puke all over my face! My hair is tied back but am I? Oh no oh no, of course not of course not. I'll run and ramp and scream and shout and stomp my feet and I'll bust my way out! 

But the silly part is is thats just the inside. Exterior-wise you'd never guess a thing.

Outdone

Alright. I had something written before this but now.. I'm just absolutely livid. You don't answer your phone even though your a business woman and will answer it for everyone else even you stupid hick fuck husband. You lie to me about calling a Realtor so we can move away from said hick fuck husband. Then you don't give me the simple favors that I ask, those being a- please pour your coffee into your cup over the sink so it doesn't stain the counters and b- tell me 30 minutes before we go somewhere that we're going somewhere to I can get ready.

You know what, I don't actually give to shits that your my mom, or that you share my blood, or that we're related, I hope you get into some massive car accident and maybe learn something, because it's obvious to me the reason you don't listen is because I'm younger and apparently don't know shit. You're the dumbfuck who married a violent-bi-polar shithead and THEN FUCKING HAD A KID WITH HIM TOO. 

Infact, screw the accident, leave the teaching to me. When I move out, I won't answer your calls, you won't be invited to any wedding that I ever have, you won't hear about your grandchild and won't speak to him/her until you fucking get some common sense. You also will not be coming near me until you divorce your ONCE AGAIN hick fuck husband. 

Grow a brain you fucking cunt.

Omegle

So I've been on Omegle for the past day just talking to random strangers and I noticed something. "Asl" "m or f" "from??". And so I started wondering why people wanted to know and I came to the conclusion that it all came down to two things. A relationship or sex. Why else would age, sex, or location matter? When you have a preference for wanting to know what someone is so you can accept them and move to the next level or deny them and move on to another contestant.

If it doesn't matter, then why when I ask "why does it matter" do you go all irrational and flipshit? Because you're spoiled.

Four Aces

Spades - Travis. Hearts - Ash. Clubs - Justin. Diamonds - Johnny. I've lost my four aces . The four keys to winning solitaire, my game of life. Four people who meant more than pennies to me. Their places are, and will be symbolic in my deck of cards. Spades I always like best, but a spade does what a spade does. It digs. Getting rid of the spade gave me time to fill that hole, and I filled that hole with a heart. I filled a lot of holes with a heart, but even hearts break. Clubs, he certainly knew how to club my head. Club me to death with criticism until I clubbed back with his own club. And diamonds, I certainly liked Johnny more than diamonds. What diamonds are to a woman, Johnny was to me. A woman admired diamonds, kept them close, but diamonds are only shiny rocks. Diamonds are made to show off. Diamonds are made to be loved as an accessory.

All aces that I've sacrificed and will continue to. After all, their only cards. I can just buy a new deck.