what the devil?

i’ve been on too long
i’m starting to overheat
i need to be shut down
i want to be shut down
i want to shut my mind off

crazy nights, fuckin’ rights
one for the history books
it didn’t magically change everything but it was good to touch and taste and be intimate again – a good combination of eros and sleaze – less reasons to feel like a loser – i’m not a cold heartbreaker, i’m not fit to burn, and i won’t leave you lying on the bed – you could be mine – i don’t know where the line is – i need light gauge if i’m gonna thrash

she is sweet and smart but she’s got a broken way of communicating - i can’t figure out her accent, she says she’s from vancouver but it sounds vaguely eastern-european with a lot of canadian hick/reserve indian inflection – wtf? i think she comes off more “messed up” than she actually is – her mind works quite well but her speech is cracked – she’s more obviously damaged than most – recovering addict - living with an abusive psychotic mother she took in to her apartment because she can’t say no to family – poor bruised girl – it would be folly to try and be a savior – but i almost cried when she showed me her wounds from the various kitchen implements she’d been beaten with in the last few weeks – there’s something sweet about fucked up – but i don’t think we need this much pain… and shame… she says she can take care of herself but i dunno – it bugs me that she seems to have no one looking out for her – and i’m no goddamn saint

my two best friends are giving me the cold shoulder – used to be i could count on at least one of them to answer my emails when i needed a female friend to calm my anxieties and guilt and general fucked-up-ness – i know, i should suck it up – if i can’t handle the absence of my two best friends, what kind of sissyboy am i? might as well face it, i’m addicted to love – i want to shut off, be solitary, and be happy with that – cause apparently it’s “jonathan is a contemptible asshole” season, dress appropriately and have fun! i guess i should rearrange the hierarchy and delegate my two best friends to lesser roles – maybe move lynze up to the number one or number two slot – take that, former best friends! apologies to those who want to be my best friend so badly it’s killing them – hey, when did i timewarp back to grade school?

familiarity breeds contempt – well truth be told, there’s things about them i find contemptible, but i don’t feel the need to be stone cold angry about it – i guess that’s what makes me the mensch that i am – i am that i am - at a certain point, anger stops being a reaction and starts being a choice

i would go back to my fairly well-maintained home – my bid to assuage the guilt of being a malformed proto-human – my home that is mostly clean, but has closets cluttered with recyclables, wafts of dry residue drinking vessels – i would go back there, but i don’t want to kill ants right now – when i go home i have to kill ants and it’s taking a psychological toll – can’t shut my mind off – it’s a hands-on reminder of the horror that is life – i crush them under my finger – their brown guts splew onto the wall and stick there – i think, what right do i have? just because i can? i know they’re most likely unthinking creatures who would do the same to me if they felt their nest infested with humans – unthinking i can believe, but unfeeling? that i can’t – can’t deny they’re alive – is this catholic guilt? cause i love a good ham sandwich

i thought i met a white god, the last time i took DXM – a bright white light god – it was an epic journey through veils – the destination was death, but it felt alright, trans-personal, beautiful – but it was my transition, six hours in a hypnogogic googley-eyed D-hole – i watched a solitary ant crawl from one side of the ceiling to the other – i felt at one with the ant, i felt its soul – and i’m the ant-crusher in this house, the hand of god, creek street local, i take it as my right and my duty – is this your dex trip or your death? The ungentleman lee

i’m kind of glad i no longer have to deal with the very cool but very fucked up people i’ve been hanging with for the last week – but i’m kind of sad too

i get fucked up
so i can feel well again
another pretty mandelbrot composite
of crumpled braintissue
i have to write this – otherwise
i’ll collapse

m freaked out tonight
but we managed to talk him down from his panic attack
panic attack, i shouldn’t say that, it’s dirty underwear
but i empathized, i get panic attacks, i just want everyone
to be calm, it’s sick how goody goody i am
m was doing well until he got the shakes and
violent thoughts, but he got through the moment
momentous implications
i told r he should read “the sound and the fury”
then i said i should probably read it too
haha

the breakroom is the perfect temperature
wish i could sleep
but i do prefer depression to mania