..I feel like sometimes, I am
this machine that bashes and fillets wildlife. Every screw and cable
and beltway of me is embedded with sinew and the guts of each minute
launches into this judgmental and shallow header, that hangs
like a hole at my gate, my unholy entrance, and it doesn't stand a chance in my whiz of a meat grinder... I try to shove aside and save every piece of soul before it enters me. I am a mess of my own job at being me.
I drank whiskey tonight. If I had drank Vodka, I wouldn't be sitting at a computer. I would be off punching elders and stabbing delinquents. True stories. Doctor me.
There's something wrong with me. It's not obvious. I mean, yeah... there's obvious shit wrong with me, but here's what isn't wrong with me...
I hate Hootie and the Blowfish.
I hate The Dave Matthews band.
I hate Blind Melon.
I hate Creed.
There's a shitload of other music I hate, but there isn't enough invisible paper to house the listing. That's what I get for being too lazy to change satellite stations while vomiting up 9 midnight paintings.
Back to what's wrong with me.
Where do I begin?
I must be obsessive.
I must be compulsive.
True. You got me. I've faced it. Nurse me.
But I wasn't those things before I melted down. Before I melted down, I was stable, and I could want things whenever it fell into my every day function. I am no longer functioning. I am careening. I am back to bouncing off of the walls of my own stable. I feel fine. I can mother my child. I can answer phones. I can make a 5 star dinner with cabbage and will. I am stressed. I am working my hands like mad to fill in for my mind. It can only last so long, and I fear my heart.
Maybe it isn't fair to say I was stable. I was resting. And I don't fear my heart. I re-introduce myself.
