yeah you’re so cool with your cigarettes and bowls and wigs and bruises [mine are better], your stupid bookshelves filled with obscure names that make you feel pretentiously important, that antique chandelier and, what, are you too attractive to wash your hair? i feel like i’m at some creepy carnival in the middle of nowhere, standing in the middle of a field surrounded by people in concentric circles, manifested in the random happenings of my dreamworld. i just want to drink something, smoke something, swallow something, bite something, wrap my mouth around mystery. the only thing that i can be certain of is that someday i will cease to exist. i am still attracted to the wrong people, somehow always drawn to the one black soul in the room, bad habits circling his head like leaves on a windy day. i can’t help that i like unique faces, things, people, adventures, designs, music, art in all its forms – to you, it’s all strange and i’m a fuckin weirdo for liking this and THAT, i’m crazy. you deem people psychotic without pause, white suburbia is normal, everything else is absurd and you are ignorant in the most obnoxious ways. i love you anyway, at least i think i do, and sometimes it’s so hard. silly me, with my eight tabs simultaneously open, staring blankly into space, thinking about time passing and terrified of where i’ll be in a year, always wanting to go over to the one guy in that smoky bar, the one who is alone and keeps walking into the back alley to distribute pills, beautiful substances to strangers with ease. don’t you see what i see? giving will make you smile, getting will make you smile, and then one day giving will make you cry because you just gave too damn much and you have no idea who you are anymore. it makes no sense until one night when you find yourself waiting on the corner at two am, it’s cold and beautiful, and you’re overwhelmed by the strangest urge to run into the middle of the street and scream at the top of your lungs. the harsh wind is chaotic and perfectly painful until two drunken idiots come up behind you, touch your shoulders and slur in your left ear and you don’t know where to put the fear that has just been poured all over you.
