::: Old Memories:::
(it's so difficult to remember. But you try.)
::: Farneta NIGHT::: 25012004 h0027 mood:
displeased with the misery of two beers, the body can not avoid think it would be better to be drunk for real, I'd forgotten, sleeping peacefully, without ranting filling lines and lines of words in their disarming truth hurts. even if I try to distract, to move my attention to anything more or less serious, though I laugh, talk, share moments of joy empty, even though I pretend indifference, there is a part of me that I'm not insulted because listening.
I'm missing something, maybe your hands warm or simply a look that tells me: 're mine.
and sincerely, you know, I do not care for having to appear strong and perfect.
I feel my skin against your raving.
but there you are.
(and in the end, wishes do not change. Ever)
::: BURN THE BRAIN (IN THIS WAY)::: 01032004 h 2007 mood: insane
a skull joyful smiles at me from the paper. two cartilage cells containing wink, perhaps, to be matched. anatomy flows from my brain, taking the space with everything else, and barely even know how to use the pen. my fingers are stained with ink, and this fills me for a few seconds, of great interest. are burned completely.
soon forget the use of written language, and as the bathroom, running shoes. a heavy curtain will fall and be around me for not understanding the house until you reach the bed. Then, tomorrow morning I wake up, realizing not to remember a paragraph of paramount importance.
(fortunately I then discovered the existence of drugs.)
::: LAME IN::: h 04032004 1754 mood: guilty
up, confesses: you will always need someone to cling to - it was a man, a 'friend, a father, it does not matter - you've never been able to walk upright and alone, no, you're not able to.
yes, I confess: I am lame in - my kingdom for a support. me and I keep it, my limped uncertain: it is mine and mine alone to carry out this difficult and at times I could not overcome or reduce barriers, I simply work around it. there is something wrong in that? Who can answer? perhaps the consciousness that is doing everything to feel dirty?
(but the rehabilitation works, or so it seems)
::: DELIRIUM::: 13042004 h
0045 and now, we spend to delirium is more complete. in my body: a mojito, two Chinese schnapps, a little 'Barbera before going to bed.
want to scream to the world that, if you can not do it to get a damn grip, is not a crime. if I can not seem to have control over my life, if I accept that it is not perfect and even feel bad for this dog is not a crime.
I know the pain and the controcoglioni to address it. and I feel vaguely privileged, blessed because I have this instinct for survival, and are attached to life as a mussel to the rock.
it is useless to worry about constantly on my mood, it is useless fucking tie motherly advice.
is like a dying fish collected from the shoreline and then slam down hard against a stone. not that revived him.
I have nothing comforting to say, because they are well aware that regaining a degree of consistency is not easy, in fact, sometimes I look and I would cry from what is difficult. shame I do not have more tears left.
(well said. Survive not live.)
::: balance ::: June 2004 mood: unstable
a jolt of electricity travels through the air, and an anonymous day cease to languish, it turns into a concert of distant thunder, gusts of wind, humidity, rain glimpses of gray sky. is a show staged just for me, so I believe at least, until everything inside will also appeased.
what makes sense, what makes me feel vividly alive, is a thin-and uncomfortable if you like, you can call it pain that comes over me from head to toe, do not flee but rather sought and found, and moreover there there will always be unpredictable and the unknown factor x, the element that can most indefinite of the will. I catapult in the world. that makes me swing.
hyperactivity, hysteria.
stasis, catatonia.
swing. waver dangerously.
::: hovering on the edge of time and advances the tightrope, a grotesque circus clown's too fast - a step further and is another minute, another hour - I recommend not to fall - slip sure-footed, without no fear to the end, and kicks the teeth are like cool water on your face always smiling, almost paralyzed in a face of gaiety:::
(and it is an infection that persists in not heal, despite everything)
::: Rape MIND::: June 2004 mood: masoedonista; noise: afterhours, strategies
-fuck between
flowers screaming
strategies
insects
from evil curse cast
-
muggy and stale air. red carpet. m'inebria scent of man and hits me. zero thoughts equal zero second thoughts, the only caution you pay, not what is done is done, and you can not go back. then, when in doubt, close your eyes and let it happen what must happen.
a different mindset clashes. the likes attract. against all laws of physics, defying gravity at times.
winning. losing. suffering. rejoicing. who cares? I can now afford to get hurt seriously. I know very well that those punched in the face I want them all in return for a second life. Direct it
you, the game.
flatters and satisfies the young narcissus, which is hidden inside me.
(kid yourself, please, take me for a snare-doe-polished and of making me yours. Delights in me enthralled. Believe it fully, and feel good, strong man; sguazzaci smiling in your undoubted ability -but, to me, not work-glazed and pride, while you can.)
I could live out or die. I want to die now, above you.
Grit your teeth not to hear. concentrates on the pressure of the jaws.
you can not, I repeat, you really can not. there is a sense of icy void in his stomach. a huge dip.
pure charm, a point of languid and insistent. ocean. Who knows how deep.
still a meter, then another, then a void, then the sea.
is so damn simple.
(nothing important, really. Only things I've branded inside.)
::: CUTURVEINS::: July 2004 mood: slightly inclined to suicide
-Take care, either.
-uh, yeah, sure. you too, take care.
-there 's something wrong?
-no, why? What should not go?
everything goes perfectly.
brava, brava. pretend nothing continues.
the best you can imagine is a large empty room where you can scream until you miss your voice. bumping into walls and smash her head. and cry, yes cry. Action forgotten and yet sublime.
the months and hours are always either too long or too short. never exact. never cut to perfection. So the time is not sufficient or in excess is unsustainable and disarming.
see how easily some other succeed in what is unattainable for you. and is something that has the power to make you turn the ball tremendously.
(also see that you are not alone. There are those who like arena and worse than you)
the engine alone is inertia. you feel that is sadly and so that it always will be, deep down. albeit cleverly disguised as passion and courage.
::: go jabbering of fragility and strength, but your only merit is to know when we close our eyes:::
(where I would be now if I had not thought of this? I have a few ideas about it. and are not pleasant.)
::: WHITE HELL::: July 2004
white hell, beautiful and terrible rages, but there is no fear in determining the vortex of air, rain , which bends around the world painfully.
break down barriers and dismantle the defenses, which are useless. giocatela to the end, and challenge the high risk factor.
diosanto, not just standing still. come on, give it a sign of life, at least.
and cry, cock, cry! try to remember how to do it porcaputtana! can not be unmoved even now, you can not accidents. you can not stop watching and quiet your whole life goes to scatafascio.
stupid little inconclusive, asshole that you are nothing.
feelings? who still has room for sentiment in the brain? and who has the strength to laugh at the moment? raccontatevi no lies, please. are not the wonderful person that someone thinks I am.
(idem, cum potato)
::: DO NOT GIVE UP::: October 2004
fixed endless seconds at my reflection in the mirror, trying to observe it as if it were me. but that's me, I see me, I find myself there, for the first time, I like that.
proceed to take this away carefully and heavy black makeup, then I rinse my face. a bit 'soap gets in my eyes, before burning, then spreading a strange heat, not unpleasant, or painful heat.
ok, the game has started. this is my life. I can do it.
all the pain I was not hard, nor has spurred me to do great things. just like a stray cat you choose the warmest corner of the street, I was lying limply on my days, trying to survive.
now, my brain travels at ultrasonic speed.
(it is just pushing the limits)
::: are unhappy? ARE YOU UNHAPPY? TI to cry? Love Bites. ::: February 2005
if your existence, for better or worse, go ahead, but you do not want to start something better, but just something different , here becomes a kind of heretic. dreaming the same as being crazy, out of the box, there is nothing.
'm alone because I'm lonely. I try to speak but not hear the sound of my voice.
and there are also those who wonder why I preclude moving his mouth.
have the sacrosanct right not to be content.
(will never end, everything, I know. Because they are not physiologically able to be satisfied)
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