Monday, September 12, 2005


I hate getting so down, I hate writing about it and spiraling into a controlled spin of self-pity. It's like subconsciously i like being in this place. Looking up from below the water.

I can swim, but i wont.

Reflecting on this past year brings to mind the amazing things i've been lucky enough to be apart of.

In the past year, I have been to Europe and have seen places and people and things most people in this world would never dream of. I have seen most of the states, and again met amazing, interesting people I might never forget. I have been apart of a few bands who are destined for amazing levels of success. I have made, kept, and nourished friendships which will redefine my life. I have continued to grow a million dollar business, and remain self employed with amazing amounts of freedom and potential.

These are life shaping experiences, and I am astonished, and overwhelmed at the idea of having so much.
Thank you God.

Thank you so much.

Sunday, September 04, 2005

The skin I never asked for.

every part of my life is misplaced.
Ive never felt consequences, so its easy to keep making mistakes. As long as everyone else gets hurt, I dont feel a thing. I haven't been honest with myself or anyone else in longer than i can remember. All i want is to tell someone everything, every problem, every lie, every excuse and have them love me for it or even hate me for it. I guess i just want to let this out. I dont deserve the air in my lungs. I promise you that.

Is this some kind of vauge incoherent catharsis? Is this some kind of death rattle, the sound i make when everything ends. I hope its peace. I hope it's white.

This is not some melodramatic cry for help, this is not a 1 dollar pleabargain. Im not going to kill myself, i swear. At least not physically.

Part of me does need to die.
lather, rinse, repeat.

I keep looking for someone to blame for myself. Looking for a reason, any reason, to see why i am the way i am. All of my family, friends everyone believes in my lies.
I think though, i am transparent. An apparition, a deadman looking from beyond death. All i want is to swim, but instead i see the sun from the bottom of the ocean. My breath is failing, and my heart is slowing, but i continue to sink.

An anchor of guilt will eventually drown me.

A final breath of my own water. A final breath of nothing of substance.
i hate this. i hate me.

Sometimes i wish God wasnt real. I wish i didnt know that in the depths of my soul, i am his, and i am a ungrateful son. An angry angel watching me as i squander everything. every opportunity, wasted.


unloved? Ungrateful, un-everything. I am what you never want to be.