the wait to hear back from a potential job opportunity has made time slow down some.

the wait to hear back from someone else had made it all but stop.

i’ve become so painfully sick of the thoughts in my head. just endless bullshit on loop. feeling sorry for myself. feeling disposable. feeling like i didn’t matter enough to anyone involved.

part of me wishes there was some sort of hidden reserve of strength to feel differently or the wisdom to know that i’m supposed to move on. currently i don’t have any of that. i spend all my energy on redirecting my thoughts to anything remotely distracting.

none of it changes the fact that i spend too much time up at night looking at the ceiling slowly dying from the pieces that have been removed. holding on with a desperate grasp to an idea that only i seem to be holding on to.

there were cookies and cake. everyone said good bye. it was bittersweet and i shook some hands of people. many of these people have in some ways become family to me with all the hours we put in. i hope the best for them and appreciate their good byes more then they’ll know.

i vomited twice before lunch from nerves or cancer. handfuls of foam.

as usual there are songs on loop, time crawls with a tenacious grasp on each second that passed before it.

my goal for the day was accomplished – i managed to shower and shave, looking presentable and clean. reeking of desperation and approval. needing more hugs then tori amos.

said once to a friend, “remember me your name if we meet again and i’ll buy you a beer,” unspoken; the intent was to simply remember myself.

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“you know you can do no wrong by me.”

that is the balloon string that i’m tethered to, aiding me along my way.

now give me a moment to continue to beat a dead horse of topics and thoughts that matter to no one besides me. it’s funny how much certain topics matter to the one involved. similar to listening to other peoples dreams… they seem interesting to them but the listener is just waiting for them to stop telling them about cleaning the fridge and stepping on endless bugs with their neighbor from when they were eight.

this day is not moving. time did stop like i wanted it to, it just stopped on the wrong moment. after this current song, i’ll listen to the labradford song, ‘accelerating on a smoother road,’ and mentally remember the time i first listened to the ambient yearning – feeling much the same i do now.

recently i went back and read large portions of this website. recalling all of the crap and poorly written late night musings that were so important to document. self centered egoism the main course. it still did hit me at how much i’ve prophesied my own destiny, looking back, wishing it has been spun in a more optimistic light.

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new resume cover letter (desperate dance mix)

dear sir or madam:

please hire me and pay just enough to allow me to exodus from my roots that keep ensnaring me. loyalty is given freely and absolute, in return please pat back and say, “you did good son.”

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i am looking forward to friday night. it will be the last day of working at my current place and an old friend is in town and some friends of mine are throwing him a surprise birthday party. there should be some fun to be had, as unrelated as our common interests and lifestyles are, humor is generally universal.

the conversations of going out and drinking until someone is sick, someone getting something done to them by someone else later on that night that they don’t remember, high fives, stealing bar glasses to keep drinking the draft on the ride home… it only has the comical effect of dry humping a cheese grater. that could be just my own outlook on that. which poses the question, is that modern romance, or is there no modern romance?

so far it’s all bullshit. i’ve said a lot of brave things. i am not as brave as i was pretending to be – nor as defiant or strong.

feeling lost and adrift and alone is something that should be familiar. if that was a true statement then why does it feel so similar to over dosing, minus the wolves.

there is a phone call i want to make. saying something like: “don’t you realize that anything can be overcome? it doesn’t have to be this way. it doesn’t have to be done alone. proving what you’re trying to prove is important, is the method you’re using really justify the means or the ends?”

how long could i keep my voice steady before everything breaks down to a whisper?

“hell or high water, we’re in this together – while you’re paddling for shore i’m slipping away.”

metaphores fail me. sliding off the raft silently with glazed eyes. maybe it’s better to have it happen that way, it appears i was more of a shackle then something to hold on to. it won’t stop me from holding my hand out pathetically.

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the past two days i’ve stayed at a close friend house watching cartoons and doing my best to laugh.

sunday morning standing outside, speaking quietly into my cell phone and breathing smoke into the already humid day. trying to imagine a new apartment, new job, new life… mentally not being able to imagine anything that would remotely resemble something that would make things alright.

slowly, back inside, sitting down on the couch and being quiet. my friend ask me what was wrong. words unable to come forth, i just slumped back and asked if we could watch more cartoons, there was nothing to say. we all watched in silence… doing my best to pretend my friend wasn’t sitting there with tears welling up.

all they knew was something was wrong but didn’t know what.

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every coin has two sides. this is just my (mis)interpretation. which changes constantly. paranoid spirals for the worse.

every moment. every moment just seems to stretch forever.

there has been little or not contact with the outside lives of other people. i’ve considered it. i’ve also considered the fact that i would be an enormous wet blanket.

the routine has become: wake up and go to work. come home and wait to get tired.

this is intentional on my part. besides flipping my cell phone open every 2 seconds to see what messages i haven’t got, there isn’t much ambition to coexist.

the relief of leaving my current job has made things easier even as the fear of the future is settling in. it does concern me as to what i will do with my time between finding a new job. it has become a life raft of time consumption. my choice still stands. there will be no take backs.

we all joke at work and tell stories when the calls are not too heavy. i will miss these guys. they all want to stay in touch. sure we will. forever and ever. here you can imagine us all smiling in a polaroid – drinks in hand and out stretched in a toast. forever and ever, never growing old, fading fast.

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right now there is music on loop. my headphones are keeping the noise down and the internal trauma at bay. for the time being. reading lyrics of the songs. looking for an answer. willing the world to stop… or speed up.

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i guess i’ll just leave you with some lyrics that sum up nothing and everything.

Standing at the punch table swallowing punch
can’t pay attention to the sound of anyone
a little more stupid, a little more scared
every minute more unprepared

I made a mistake in my life today
everything I love gets lost in drawers
I want to start over, I want to be winning
way out of sync from the beginning

I wanna hurry home to you
put on a slow, dumb show for you
and crack you up
so you can put a blue ribbon on my brain
god I’m very, very frightening
I’ll overdo it

- slow show, the national

right now i am sitting in the spiders nest many miles from where i thought i would be.

it feels like i’ve been stuck to some velcro and i am being pulled off one tand at a time. part of me isn’t sure how to feel. there is a part of me that feels like i used to. sitting alone in a room staring at the glow of the screen, playing videogames, reading books. hiding. in the old way. not the way i would normally do that. doesn’t feel like escapism – feels like enjoying a hobby.

recently i decided there were so many things i felt were important that weren’t and i’m making changes to get back to when, even when i was a mess, back to when i atleast had a sense of self.

being strict on food intake and smoking more then i should i’ll get back down to a size where i’m not rocking fat pants. the scale knows what’s happening and that’s confirmation enough that someday; maybe winter, i’ll be back to where i want to be.

so now i am holding my breath, i put my two weeks notice in at the office and i don’t have any options lined up. that’s okay. from the bottom there isn’t anywhere else to fall. you know? when you’re losing everying you might as well cash in your chips. restart the level. who knew that there was as much weight on my back as there was… i knew there was a lot. atlas knows what i’m talking about.

the breath holding isn’t about the job. that is just a job.

the breath being held in is just me trying to wait out other things. hoping for the best. i am doing my best to put recent events behind me… even if now… it simmers behind my chest like a scared bird. confused. hitting against the window, isn’t that the sky? i’m waiting for the hands that don’t belong to me to come and set it free. after so much personal introspection and thought it’s hard to see straight anymore.

buying groceries in the ghost town i thought i had escaped last night, i realized that i had never needed to escape. even if i had never left, i was never apart of whatever it is there was to be apart of. right now, bullets can’t touch me, if the world wants me to love, the world will need to make amends and know that if we play according to the rules, i didn’t come through unscathed. patients and understanding are going to need to be applied liberally. i just hope that something happens before i scab over – morgan has been working overtime to rebuild walls for machine. thankfully i am more forgiving and don’t quite work they way they do. i guess the main difference between them and me is if your playing with all your cards, playing honest, playing true… i can stick it out a few more hands.

like it was said before, from the bottom, everything looks up.

half the battle is just getting out of bed and remembering you’re not the sum of other peoples perceptions and actions.

things were so much easier when all i gave a fuck about was industrial music. i knew nothing more of the world then my own small town.

now.

now i know differently.

things were so much easier.

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next time i post here i’ll make sure i have a joke or something to pass the time. right now – it’s just chronic failed attempts at trying to maintain something that broke.

laughing, standing still, shaking from the joy of it?

all with our heads in our hands.

all thinking this was going to be the only moment.

just one minute more to count eleven things i hate on your witch hands.

folding paper to make a whistle — eyes closed.

eight breaths.

sick to our stomachs, bent over, shaking with the loss of it all.

i was called into the meeting room today. we had a conversation about how good i was doing and what was holding me back. things were mentioned about my attitude. apparently, my attitude is not the brightest and my tone could be slightly off.

really dear wunderkind, tell me what is next?

getting ready to move again feeling like my life is entirely stagnet and boring. very little of the things that i could do to typically make it okay – all seem very fleeting… very bland. all personal growth has stopped. i’d say something clever about it hasn’t just stopped but how maybe it has derailed from the tracks and all the twisted wreckage lay years cold in rain that is currently coming down.

i won’t though. that would belittle real wreckage. that would also not be fair to someone with real problems.

this will be cut short. there is nothing really willing to come out of me right now but my own pandering and selfish flails.

when you’re older all your friends will be boring and all you’ll have is your art.

“i keep my art hidden inside so they won’t talk to me about it.”