I’m working.
It’s 10:40pm.
I’ve been ‘working’ since 9:20am this morning.
I went home around 6:00pm. Thought I’d get some done there. Little did I know…
All I really wanted was a little bit of chemical stress relief. Today, as has been for about 3 days, was alcohol. Noticed I couldn’t get anything done there, so I came back. After finishing the bottle. Turned Live up full. Well, ‘full’ being before distortion. Then Marilyn. A few days I gave up. Again. Hope. Desire. The search for meaning or motivation. Alone, the warm fluid spreading, unchecked, across my lonely stomach, fantasizing of no more than Her sweet embrace. Darkness enveloping me. Succumbing to the promise of ultimate numb. With no tears. No regret. Only her. The Goddess whose single symbol is the Moon. Invisible in her full glory. My True Mother. My only Protector. I now sit, almost guilty at not being able to get anything done. Knowing only that there is only one reality that will truly free me from this that I am. This that I hate. A reality that is scorned, frowned upon, and judged in ignorance. A reality labeled as “gothic.” The term “labeled” seemingly loathed as much buy those who assume it as those who judge the label. If I had the balls to take my own life I would have done so long ago. But, alas, here I sit. In the one place I’ve found in my meager 26 years that has ever felt like ”coming home.”
Judge me, for you are human.
Love me, for I speak MY truth.
Hate me, for the truth hurts.
“We are all wicked gods. With little g’s. and big dick’s.”
– mm. portrait. MY monkey.