Sanity always seems short lived (maybe it's a lunar cycle)

Sometimes I wonder if Monsanto sprayed something on my vegetables. Or all of the DDT in the 1970's did it. Or maybe it's all genetic. But I just can't stay sane.

Up late staring at the night reflections on the glass again. A knot in my gut. The whiskey won't put me to sleep. The pills just made me sleepy. But not tired enough. Now that dark fist has a firm grip on me and I just want to crawl into a dark corner and disappear.

I want to let her sleep. But I'm afraid that my being awake will awaken her. But then if I keep this up, those strange unintelligible voices start mumbling in my brain and I definitely won't be able to sleep.

When I was a kid I used to think that I was picking up radio signals with my teeth. There was this idea going around that having metal fillings would turn your fat liquid head into some sort of antenna. I now know that there is no science to support that and it was likely some sort of stupid urban legend. I suppose I was going schizo at a pretty early age and those fucking voices are still there to greet me if I stay up late at night. I suppose I'm lucky that I can never quite make out what he's saying. Sounds like a very muffled newscaster.

Could be worse. I could be taking orders from my neighbors dog.

Tomorrow should be a fun day. But I already know it will be difficult because that dark spirit is haunting me. No doubt here for a week or more. I have to put on a happy face. I'm a pretty good actor. And when I'm really in character, nobody sees him here with me. The pills surely do help! But oh, so does the alcohol.

Okay, can't start that talk. We have no whiskey left to drink. And the night is just beginning. Perhaps you would like some cough syrup, you son of a bitch? I'll split it between two glasses and we can toast to our good (mental) health. Come to think of it, why am I the one staring out the fucking window? This is what YOU want to do!

so much for that (the beginning and end)

so this is how my day begins?
head split open once again.
I'll fill my gut with everything.
something ought to kill the pain.
i know, i know it will all end.
but then do i fill it up again?
and what's killing me,
it's not the pain.
it's that i finally felt good again.
but this what we do.
baby we'll get through.
we'll make up like we always do.
if only i could pick the days.
that i would wake up and feel this way.
I'd lay down with you and face the weather.
and we could both be miserable together.

Confessions (why am I talking to you)

Things I do when I don't know what to say.
1. Point my phone away from everyone and tap the home button. I have no email. No Facebook friends. Just a blank screen and the comfort of the light bump I get when I touch it.
2. I put on a movie. Wait for you to fall asleep and then stare out the window for four hours. Sometimes five.
3. I take a pair of tweezers and stab myself with them. My heart races. The pain comes to the surface. All the pieces fit for a moment.
4. Write things into notepad and close it without saving. Who the fuck am I talking to anyway?
5. I rehearse conversations in my mind. Over and over, until they go the way that I like.
6. I try to delve into work. Everyone thinks I'm an over committed workaholic. Truth is I just want to distract my brain and set it free.
7. I drink. And then I drink some more. It takes a swim with my medication and turns my gut into a painful gurgling mess. I close eyes and enjoy the feeling of floating. I am weightless. And soon I will be asleep. Tomorrow I will want to throw up. I don't care.
8. I post into a blog that I don't share with anyone. I want a friend. I search for something to hold onto. But you keep yourself busy. Some day you will be gone, and my life will truly mean nothing.

Come to me darkness (I am weak for you)

I want to tell you everything. About the weakness I feel inside. But would you want to hear it? Would I want you to hear it?

It gets so dark, and I don't know what to do with myself. I focus on trying to entertain myself. Because I don't want to *work* on anything, and that usually keeps my mind busy. And so I sleep. I sleep so much I feel like I am in a coma. But when I awake, my body is useless.

My legs shake from standing and walking.

My head feels like a full gallon of milk on a hot summer day.

My hands shake.

I don't know what to think.

I don't know what to feel.

So I think and I feel nothing.

And darkness envelops me.

Maybe I deserve it.

darkness, darkness (I wrote another song)

darkness, darkness, here we are again.

I talk to you, because you're my only friend.

And even though I fight with you, and drink until you're gone,

with darkness at my side I carry on.

darkness, darkness, how do I explain?

Let me help you, let me share your pain.

I want to feel the things you do, to make me real again.

darkness, darkness burn and bite my skin.

darkness, darkness, where do we go from here?

my throat has dried and I'm frozen with your fear.

I wish that when they looked at me, they'd see you standing there.

darkness, darkness help me hide my tears.

darkness, darkness, your power has me down.

To get much lower, we'd be under ground.

Hold my hand and stay with me, when no one is around.

darkness, darkness you're the greatest friend I've found.

darkness, darkness, daylight's come again.

And here I find myself without my friend.

Although I may despise you, and try to push you away.

darkness, darkness you got me through the day.

the dark of night envelops me (a love song)

I stand outside myself, and watch it all begin.
I wish I had a friend. This sensation doesn't end.
It only fades away at night and in the morning starts again.

You think I'm crazy, and I guess I think you're right.
But please don't laugh at me, I'm simply not up to the fight.
I'm losing touch again, tell me what to feel.
Don't look inside of me, and tell me that this isn't real.

You can shed my darkness, if I open the door.
But if I give into you, am I human any more?
I am unbalanced, my bones all ache with pain.
It's probably in my head, I wish I could explain.

I want to reach for you, but you don't understand.
This isn't what I planned.
I don't ask for much, let me hold your hand.

I can't be needy, and so I scream inside.
My former self has died.
I want him back at times, I need to take that ride.

Another lonely night. Staring at my phone.
I've been left alone.
I woke up in the dark, and made my way back home.

I want to be touched (even if provoked)

Some days I just feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest, and filled with a cold painful darkness. I open it to show it to you, but you don't care. And the darkness seeps in. I slowly creep into your space. I want to feel your touch. I want you to reach for me. But you don't. And I am heartbroken once again.

Some days I wonder what you are thinking. When you stare off into space. Your hands between your knees. I touch your hands. I smell the oils from your cigarettes. I run my hands over your scars. And all the while I wonder what you are feeling. I want to be touched so badly.

Last night I lay staring at the walls. And I imagined putting my head in your lap. As I have so many times before. But it was different.   You put your arm over me. You ran your fingers across my scalp. And I felt love.

But it's just a warped fantasy.   And I am left alone in the dark with my thoughts. I try to think of the last time you came to me. And wrapped your arms around me. The last time you touched my face. Nothing comes to mind.

Tonight I will drink myself to sleep.   And I will throw myself at you. And you will shove me off. And it's okay. Because I am just tipsy. But I just want to be touched.