stream-of-conscience

so you were wondering what happened to me.

don’t even think about it
don’t even look at luke right now
look
luuke
looke
I wish I had my note book
I really wish I did
maybe I should go home and get it
but I have at least an hour on my meter
bitches.
maybe I should go to the beach today
I am god tired
plumed out
plum picked
I smoked a cigarette today
my first
my first pack
am I addicted now?
I bought a pack
I contributed 4.99 to cancer
the cancer of my body
and America
America is a growing disease
all of these people are diseased
they are full of diseases
in their immune systems
lungs filling with tar
one dot at a time
I wonder if I have a spot on my lung
that smoke blowing away
it smelled good
it smelled too sweet at first
but the taste left in my mouth, it was delicious
reminds me of a certain person
I hate to mention, but I think I have to
I wonder if I’m addicted.
it smelled like him, not really but sort of
I wonder if I smell like a smoker
or just like the coffee I drank
and soaked in for 2 hours
I have a tattoo on my arm
black india ink dripping into an open wound
scarring over, one second at a time
I must be addicted.
it was just my first
the nicotine, seeping slowly into my brain
it goes slowly from the lungs, those lungs that used to be so pink
it goes into the blood stream, and circles around until it finds my brain
all that gray matter that I’ve never discovered
and that one spot of cancer is sitting there
waiting to die
I’m not certain why it wants to die, maybe it doesn’t have a choice
like me, we will all die one day
and when I’m falling off a cliff, I’m going to drag that other person
down with me
the cancer is just dragging me down
no one wants to die alone, anyways
and even though I’m sitting with an empty coffee cup and a lung full of
cancer
I’m still thinking of him
because I’m pathetic that way
I don’t know why
maybe that spot of cancer in my brain will fill the hole he did
it’s not a very big hole
but when I only have one hole in my entire body, I tend to notice it’s
there
I walk by it every day, sometimes I circle it
and I stare into its emptiness, hoping to fill it
with coffee and cigarettes and tattoos
and love.
wow, wait, love?
I don’t know what that is.
No, I do
No, I don’t
Well, wait, there are different kinds of love.
There is family love, that is forced upon me since birth.
There is love for my dogs, adoring, unflinching love,
where I could just watch them and smile, watch their pure happiness
which I’ll get to later
then there is the love of friendship
of having someone to trust, hug, cry with and about
love love love to death, but most important, trust with anything
and then, of course, there is that other sort of love
the kind that no one can really define
it’s like a combination of bodily lust, and friendship, and something else entirely…
security, it’s security, to know that you’ll have this human being, that’s at least two heads taller
with huge, wide shoulders, a long sloping back,
a massive, caving chest, ready to be wrapped in my own arms
I suppose that’s what I’ve been getting at this whole time,
companionship, and I don’t even know if I can really trust him
and I don’t think I really can
I don’t think I can trust him to be there for me
to be that security that I’ve always needed
I…suppose I desired it before I even knew what it was
but that’s all over now
that’s what I keep telling myself
to make it easier, when everything actually does end
why won’t it just end?
this pain, this hole, it’s waiting to be filled,
but it needs to be truly and completely empty first
it has to be empty
we have to be shattered to be rebuilt
I need to be shattered
because right now, I’m just waiting
sitting on the side of the road
listening to the same song I’ve been hearing this whole time
wondering if anyone will drive by, anyone
calling out for someone to save me, to talk to me, to give me this
companionship
but my voice is dead from singing along to that same old song
and hoping too much
that hope is gone
or almost
I wish it would get up and leave already
it needs to leave
how I want to feel complete and total despair again
so that I can get up, I can do something about it
I can rebuild myself
into a completely new person
and live again
but I’m done talking about love
it never worried about me
why am I so worried, what do I have to lose?
except for my dignity, my happiness
but I never had those, not in the first place
I’m tired of waiting
I’m tired of being the one that he doesn’t call
but not just him, no one calls, and no one listens
they just live their own life
and I wish to god that I could just forget
that I could distract myself long enough
so as not to care, any longer
so as not to worry or cry or think
thinking…it will kill me
all of these thoughts mull around in my cancerous brain
until they catch their own disease
and wither and mold and die
these thoughts
so, wait, there was something else
that I was going to comment on
about life, and the lack of, and the disease in America
hold on
oh yes, pure happiness
I suppose I don’t know it
because I’ve never had pure misery before
or maybe I have
but I don’t remember right now, because I’m all drugged up
on caffeine, nicotine, self-loathing
it’s like the worst pain I ever felt in my life was a week ago,
but I can’t remember it right now
because I feel fine
that’s right, everything from the neck down
is in top shape
but the pink lungs are looking a bit grayer
and I forgot to mention that ugly little hole in my heart
it was never filled, but I’ve just been made aware of it
isn’t it funny, how it doesn’t hurt, until you can see the blood pouring out
but now I know about the hole, and the unhappiness
and it hurts
it does
I don’t know what else to say
except that it hurts very badly
and the worst part is, I don’t know how to make it better
I don’t know if talking to you will make it better
I don’t think it will
I always think it will, but it never does
I don’t know if seeing my only friends tomorrow will make things better
because it’s only a distraction
life still goes on
it just keeps going
when I want it to end
I just want it to end.

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