Nothing to say. Nothing to do. The little there is gets exhausted so quickly. Everything there is to say is said in a matter of moments. Everything there is do do is done in a matter of days.
Then we're stuck propped up against concrete walls with nothing left but the dull gray hued 9-5 world before us.
It's the same with everyone. Family, the few friends I have had...even then...even there... conversation isn't any better. Relationships aren't any stronger or brighter. No one ever has anything to say to anyone else. We sit in silence and stare. And not even at each other. But at nothing. At the void in our minds. It's a disease. And I'm surprised it took so long to get around to poisoning us.
I'm growing so sick of everything again. I want so badly to break free (life wise. not relationally). But what from in life? How to? I feel like I should be able to do something right now and leave all this behind. But leave what? Why? To prepare for what?
I feel like a riddle has been placed before me, a convoluted question that I can't find the answer to. I can't even define the question.
Maybe...maybe it's just... if I can't stimulate myself from the inside out, why should I be able to find stimulation from the outside in?
Could I live soley through my imagination? Could I live in a schizophrenic world of make believe and be happier than I am now?
Take another drag of the dangling cigarette. Feel the concrete push into your back. What's coming around the corner? Is that? A dragon... with purple scales...creeping...
creeping...
I live enmeshed in dreams anyway. Why not spread it farther? I am guiltily entrapped in memories of the past and anticipation of a reprise in the future. That's so out of place right now. I'm too fixated on things gone, on things I can't have. But it's sort of like one of my little drugs.
That's what that cigarette is. I smoke memories to keep myself occupied. I smoke music too. And sway as I do. Forgetfulness. Release. Pretending there's an easy way out that I can take. Avoidance of responsibility.
Trapped...trapped...we're all trapped like rats. Never gonna get out. Buckle down and work harder... Working so hard until we're so exhausted we die. Drop. Dead.
I don't want to die that way though. It's my fate rushing close. But I still, foolishly hold out for beauty. Death with lover clutched close. Don't fade pretty wish... eclipsed by the darkness...