pray.for.me.
I need to be reviewing the every bone in the body and bony prominences, and the ligaments that connect them, and the skeletal muscles that are attached to them.
and all i can think about is writing.
my stupid escape from my stupid world. i can't fly away from here. i don't have magical powers, a magic carpet, or a genie. i just have me. and this block of white. and this keyboard. and my fingers.
and that's enough for now.
i'm just afraid of failing right now. and i'm trying to bigger and better than fear. 'cept i'm still a little bit afraid and i don't want anyone to know. because i'm trying to better than that.
and i just want you to tell me that everythings going to be okay. and that all these efforts aren't meaningless because that's what they feel like.
meaningless.
i'm suppose to read howl by allen ginsberg and i just don't want to. this anthology 1712 page anthology that won't end. like my workload. like my life.
and i was watching amelie today as a good reason to procastinate even though i've seen it a billion times. and i was thinking about the man whose childhood could fit into a box. boom, your suddenly 50 and your childhood can fit into one itty-bitty tiny piece of shit tin can.
and all i can think about is. my entire life can fit in a piece of shit old school sardine can. and maybe i'm just being hard on myself. but right now. i feel overwhelmed and shitty. and this is what i do when i feel that way and when i play songs that make me want to write.
i can't hide it anymore. and i let myself write in private. and i play the songs on repeat and i let myself enjoy the moment just for a moment.
and i just wish i was more. and i know these are crappy words. but they make me feel better. and that's enough for me. that's enough for now.
okay.
okay.
okay.
okay.
okay.
i'm going now. i'm getting away again. back to life. back to reality.
back to bones, the ligaments, the bones, the howl by allen ginsberg, the medical microbiology, the blahblabhalbahlabhalhblkj.fucksshitingfucker.ing. shit.
please.god.