Tuesday, November 1, 2016

Los Angeles, and everything after

this is not special fancy writing i don't have special fancy writing, all i have are - i don't know what i even have i should be more thankful grateful for all the wonderfulness but i can't i tried i couldn't i tried i tried i tried - not a single time has the plane landed and i thought hurray!, not a single once, not a single once, every time the wheels touch down and there's that sinking falling something really sinks down low and i feel crushed ruined hurt    i mean that: hurt,   and then i walk around for days thinking why here why how did, what is this place who am i here?, i'm no one here, not even my mom is here any more, i miss my mom, why is everyone i love somewhere else somewhere far from me and i am thankful for all these wonderful lovelies i spent a lifetime finding discovering and why am i not near them, but here, in this place, by myself where i have nothing to do but drink night after night hoping the night just goes away,   dear 2016 seriously f8ck off i hate you hate you hate you, what more disaster can you devise you f8cker of a year i hate you hate you hate you - this is a salty month of a salty year i have no answers why can't i answer this i don't know how to fix this who can i speak to to help me escape this?, who why can't i find a way out of this maze at the end of the universe where i've been trapped for millennia where every day is a week, every week a universe and where i've been reduced to a silent mouse in a quiet office where i read the thing and write the thing and have nothing to show for it on friday evening but another 80 hours clocked wasted spilt and empty bottles i look through and find nothing but a hazier tonight tomorrow forever i swear i am trying - i am failing but i am trying and i don't know how what i'm supposed to do, i don't know what i'm supposed to do i don't know what i'm supposed to do, dear tuesday dear monday dear all you days i want you to be here with me, i want to see you why can't i see?

i am out of boxes to put you in.

put me in the box already i am out of flowers.

why can't i fix this  i don't know how to fix this   who can i speak to to help me escape this? 

1 comment:

Selah said...

Hey. It's weird, I used to read your blog YEARS ago, back when I was 16,17.. or so and so f8cking lost and confused but I remember reading your posts and deriving a great comfort in their meandering and shifting form and simple expressions of complex feelings that always just evaded me. I am now 23, graduated in English Literature, still just as meandering and shifting in form as when I was 16, just with cracks where blurred edges used to be, and tonight for the first time in years I thought of your blog. The name just appeared out of nowhere. And I STILL love your writing. I see you haven't written in a long time and I hope there's no sinister reason for that. You'll probably never see this comment or if you do you might think it's weird, but I just wanted to say I think i can now truly class myself as a long term fan of your writing and is it still being written anywhere? Is there anything I can buy? Do get in touch if you ever see this.

Yours, Katherine (aged 16/23).