i lost grip of a lot
and i've said it all before
life has gotten very gray, i didn't wait for the color to come back, like it does, but instead i shattered paint cans with a shotgun, now i've got that toxic taste - okay then
it doesn't serve art or poetry or music, anymore, if it ever did, and it certainly doesn't serve me - and there's no credibility left - and i'm a traitor to myself, i don't trust myself, i never should have in the first place
i can't say anything - the pink lemonade is fine - big giant lull - fuck, i just want to say that i hate myself so much - i just need to say that, i need to express it - i need a change, i'm just mired in this bullshit - can't seem to drag myself out - my will is weak - my brain is sick - i'm supposed to play at open stage tonight - i thought, i could redeem myself through music - not flake out, show up with my gear - but i don't think it's in me today - this is a long recovery - i may have the capacity to regenerate some juice - if so, i'm quite lucky in that regard - i've come to think that perhaps real healing is years away, assuming i stay on track - i don't know, i've gotten very very good at treason lately, it's about all i know
Ignored at the meeting by the monstrous chad because of the easily missed frequency of my voice, when I tried to be friendly and join the co...
I'm working out new ways to perform and record. They take the form of melodic fragments, half-assed renditions of half-remembered songs,...