Wednesday, April 22, 2009


i forgot how it worked. a phrase. some random words. not pithy or anything like that no no. passing person. something someone says. something no one says. a pattern of lights. click. always starts the same. click.

it's delicious too. i forgot how much. sometimes i feel it. just kinda swimming around in the darkness (open your mouth wide, in there, that darkness- that's what i mean). when i feel it swimming i sometimes give it a Poland. hope that'll appease it. it'll go away. i don't know. what do you do with it? i sit by myself for a while. listen to Shostakovich. maybe Portishead. enough? you happy? scribble stuff in my notebook. ok. good.

today mom says to me, she says- you know i pray everyday you don't... start doing stuff again.
- scared your son will have a little fun?
- ...
- i'm not up to anything.
- there's something in your eye.

i thought about it for a while. no no no. being a part-time depressive is still a heck of a lot better than being a full time schizophrenic.


MacDonald's is more bright than an operating room. people's eyes all lit up like watery laser lights. the kid next to me, his eyes are brownish, looks like to the tops of two coffee cups looking back at me. it's a little scary and i look away. my feet. yes. safe. it's past midnight now... Thursday morning. what's with all the people? a Hasidic Jew gives me a disapproving glance as he side-steps past me.

i'm sad when i order. sorry to. i sit. someone should update Hopper's Diner. two angry young men sit and curse alot about there being too little mustard in their burgers. the brown-eyed kid sits with his back to me. a family, a father and three fat daughters of varying ages sit and chew in silence. this is the wrong silence. there's another silence. a better one. i remember it. i can't remember from where, or... what it sounded like... but it was the most peaceful thing.


tomorrow's the last one. exam. i think it's all this sitting in my room by myself. that's not usually conducive to anything. especially for people like me. it's hard to dodge bullets when you confine yourself to a bedroom. books and papers and CDs scattered everywhere. yesterday, maybe day before, i decided i hate all my music. i ransacked the garage and found three boxes of old CDs. i emptied them on my floor. they're all wrong too. i don't understand all the people i've been. maybe skin is just a nice way of saying casket. cardboard-box. watery-tomb. whatever. how many times have i died and fallen inwards? who are these people? who listened to this music? i stare at Waking Up the Neighbours. Hey mom, remember this? she doesn't. Are you kidding me? this is the first CD you ever bought me- back when they came in those boxes ya know? She takes it gently in her hands like it was a pearl or something. she smiles. sadly. we all have a gift for smiling sadly in my family. the past is soo much that way: sad smiles. yes. you can't know how hard this was for me. $13. she shakes her head. we had no money then. i love you soo much, i wanted you to have something. she says that because we couldn't afford posters, so all the decorations in my room where my drawings of animals i did from off Zoobooks. (we got those at a garage sale once. a whole boxfull of them for a few bucks). i remember the fence at that house, it was green. (i smile sadly).

i kick a few CDs. step on a book and feel its face squash into the floor. i'm going to the kitchen. yeah, follow me if you like. glass/water/drink/gulping sound. click as it sits on the counter top.

welcome back. haven't had to deal with you in a while.
[he smiles.]

find the drawer with the caffeine pills. grab another energy drink. make some jasmine tea. swallow/drink/gulping sound. i have an exam tomorrow i haven't prepared for. maybe the heart attack can save me. another pill. swallow/drink/gulping sound.

write. re-read. hate. ignore. _____(got 4 more chapters to read

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