keyculator speak

today is friday march 2, i guess it's just after midnight so. i'm drinking beer and i just had my first cigarette after 2+ weeks without. i'm trying to understand teh impulse. i know part of it is teh moment itself but what's teh feeling that leads to it and the feeling that hapens afterwards? tonight i thought i would write some messages to friends inviting them to teh movie at SXSW and maybe even post on some groups about the screenings. or do some research. or even just read my book. but there was a shift, a switch flipped. and none of that productive stuff is what i want anymore. i have been filling this void for years this way - beer, smokes, drown it. i use the time too to connect, talk with friends, hang out. if i'm alone i can SING or listen to music in a devoted way that i don't normally allow myself to. or this- I WRITE. is that what i really need to be allowing myself? the smoking and drinking is the excuse for the thing i want. the honest, the open, the art, the silliness.



and so now i'm on beer .. 4 and cough syrup (the prescribed dose thank you) and the friends somehow suddenly disappeared, as they always seem to do once i decide to lay down deep in teh groove, and i see that i'm alone, and i become terrified. look at this fucking hell i've wrought, look at this mess i am. i can't figure what eh trigger was. why did they leave? what have i done?
jerel jerel jerel i love you. what can i do for you. am i a horrible person for you to be around. am i the worst influence. am i the whitest cis lady asshole. i want to be better. i am sorry. i am sorry. i want to love you i want to hold you i want to keep listening. i wish i could cat scratch my own hands. i wish the pen pierced deeper in the palm. you're 6 nyquil down and i'm 6 states away and i can't fucking stand it, i'm drinking to fill the space. come here, come home. if you don't know what you're looking for it's okay. if you think you might fail it's okay. there's nothing worse than not trying.
do i just want you to love me?
am i so
so so so so
so so
so
so
so so
sosososososossososossosososossososos
pathetic ???
maybe.
no.
i can see the love that will ignite between the webs, i see how you will fit into the fold. the connection is not just mine.
if i have no other purpose in this world i don't care as long as i can connect us. i'm proud of the fires i started. to leave the people in a room and see the light turn on.
i want to be so much better than i am.
i have been so bad at getting better.
i create impossible goals. i fail i fail and i grieve the failure. i drink, i smoke, i tell myself i was meant for it.
my breasts feel heavy with regret. days i hate them, only visualize slicing them loose. be free!
i want anything more than these pink claws, flesh sack, milkless bags of misery, all this pink raw hell, the nebula of pain on my thigh, the twitching curl back the WHY the WHY i can't speak bodies i can't handle them i can't encase them i can't comprehend.
more reasons to be celibate! a few more of which i attempted to articulate to jerel earlier today-- i think it felt good to just spew toward him when he wasn't there, just typing typing putting my thoughts down. it's always good to do. i'm always glad when i've doen it. even when it's terrible it's good to get it out. i got it out to him. i felt like it was maybe good too because it said with definity, finally, i am not looking for your sex, when i say i love you, i am not sexing at you. it is not the feeling of now. so i felt like okay i probablky overshared a bit. i always do. but conveying that i think was important. maybe it broke some tension. even if it was just my tension. like what i told him - being celibate right now is partially about releasing the tension of sexual expectations. if they aren't there to begin with we can find new ways, maybe old ways, to communicate, to hold, to become intimate. i miss it i miss it i miss it. i think even i miss the imitation of sex from childhood, what it was in my fiction before it became stagnant and hard and painful rough fixed performed dissociated.
how sleepy am i
how tingly am i
what is my body for
there is this twiddling pain to the left of my spine in the middle of my back, just licking a little this week. what have you come here for? or the tight knot in my gut, and the little pinching pain next to my belly button that grips when i laugh or cough. the pain i ignore. is that what the body is for?
last night i thought i would explode. maybe it was these last two weeks of illness and mostly lying in bed and just routine and nothing and slugging and feeling like an alien just leaving the house once and having to pretend to be a human in front of normies. i thought i would burst. i had the moment where i saw the mirror and the tension exploded. where my eyes went fire and my limbs went wild and my fingers had to fierce explode and gesture strong and my face talked to itself in the mirror without any words that would mean anything except to itself. where i'm nearly clambering up the counter to mash back into myself, unlike usuually where i avoid that shape altogether. who is that creature who comes out? who wants to play? does it have to happen when i'm drinking? (i know that isn't true but how can i invite it out otherwise? where is the space?) WHERE IS TE SPACE WHEREI S THE SPACE.
i've otld myself i've told myself
CARVE IT OUT
CARVE IT OUT
CARVE IT OUT
but how ca ni carve it when i can't start it
i need more loves i need comrades i don't know thati can go it alone. i lose so easy.
i wish i could