why tho

i came home after two beers with a headache and i didn't care, i had two more, for the first time in at least ten and two days and is that good? am i better? i've been so miserable mad pathetic i have nothing to give. i am thinking of being dead and what ease. maybe my dream was prophetic or maybe i should be proactive. i don't need this beer that i snuck for. i don't know why i need to sneak. i crave the game. (there are so many better games)

how does everyone just make their stuff and do their things and it seems
not easy
but possible
how is it that everything to me looks like anti itself
how is it i am even still here


goddammit if you go anywhere

it takes so much strength in this state not to say it




did i write it? i don't remember.
when i came home after 2 beers after 0 for a week i felt
yuck not sleepy but tired probably could sleep but why bother when i could have another
prowled and pranced
kissed dogs
avoided questions so that old biddy wouldn't have to answer I HATED THE MOVIE I HATE THE COMPANY I HATE ALL THINGS
wasn't it supposed to get better if i wasn't drinking ?
wasn't it supposed to be booze that made my mind lo go ?
i borrowed the beer and i don't know why
i feel like all hell here by myself with: yes i did, there were two more beers, so four and i'm a wreck
the impulse is
tell yr wreck
text someone
let them know what hurt you or if it's late enough only how hurt
i'm trying to not
i'm trying to stop
if i'm true
how i have forced my sad feelings on everyone everyone everyone i know lately
- i used to be so much better at hiding -
i got it in my mind - it looked like - expressing would be better
i thought i saw it
i was jealous
all these people sharing sharing sharing and
!
there they go how
even i've seen them
so yeah okay so what's even real
so i try to let myself feel that impulse
and i'm just idiot speak a fool unhappy garbage tongues or beating down these closed doors or near nonverbal at the shore
i hate it i hate it how i could kill it
is it my turn

im supposed to back off but its hard
especially seeing f like this, yes hi, yes i drank it up
why am i nicer now
that wasn't the deal
why is it i grow meaner every day and seems like more when i'm sober


here is the feeling where i want to call them. this is probably also the thing that tomorrow i would say - why the fuck did i call them so late. how dumb. here is the thinking i will try to say.
i'm trying to keep my distance but it's hard so hard. i thought about saying something. i thought about typing true words. then i remembered im doing distance but by then i've started to open the window so i think - might as well check. and look. there is your sweet little face, you've seen and you know and still you don't speak. FUCK how it KILLS. what the fuck have i done what the fuck can i do. how can i ever make anything okay. i think - just tell them quick, the true thing, or no that's too honest or hurting or boring, no so tell another line - but no i said i wouldn't. because yes that's all i have done for two+ weeks now and i haven't gotten anything back. the method fails. i have failed. again again again.
and even still i think - if i can't have texts that work maybe i can just call and speak clear or even if not that my missed message will be a signal - the one saying i miss you and i want you around and i love you and -- pretty much the things i've tried to say with typed words on a regular basis.
they are too much or they aren't anything.
what a fucking fool.
tonight i'm glad i didn't call. did i make myself understand myself?
i'm always waking up and checking and oh fuxking gods why why why did i call at 4am what was i thinking what is wrong with me
yes yes everything yes yes kill it
i have the hardest time believing in t