Slightly un-Suicidal

Dear Friends,

This was written last week when I felt sorriest for myself about the loss of one of my former students being crushed and having no shoulder to cry on, knowing deep inside if it could happen to HIM, it could certainly happen to a buttwad like me.

Anyway ... I'm not killing myself nor worrying.

I vented so it'll all work out.

Ciao.



Julian

*****

Did I shelve my talent and hopes so long ago I can't account for them in any way except as a title? Have I finally made myself the miserable shitbag I loathed to be in life or am I just too scared to do anything? Has my life ended and I'm just a rotting husk of human being?

I placed many things in many graves ... and they're going to haunt me.

WHY THE FUCK DO I FEEL ANYTHING FOR THESE DEAD HOPES???!!!

WHERE'S MY DREAM, MY ALLEVIATION OF PAIN??!!

WHEN WILL I BE THE ONE FEELING JOY?!

WHY CAN'T I CRY HONESTLY?

Why can't I be happy?

Why not me?

Tell me ...

I'd love to fuckin' know.

All my memories and sadness taunts me with the lingering stink of failure. I can't tell a joke or make people happy and I can't know my own feelings to be true and honest any longer. I hate feeling so lost and sad, and so unable to tell anyone any thing - any goddamned thing. I can't even shout or growl or be cruel and hateful or angry.

Impotent.

That's the fuckin' word. I have no juices and no joy and no way to recover without aching to try slitting my wrist again.

They're sitting on the cusp of my ducts, but I won't let them flow. I have been harboring & hoarding all my own emotions and socil honesty all I can be is crude and barbaric.

It's easier to collect toys and comics that to talk to people.

It's easier to spend money than to make when everyone wants to take it from you anyway.

It's easier to lie than to tell the truth ... even to yourself.

Its easier to drink or smoke or get laid or fucked than it is to confess or admit anything.

It's so easy to point out the flaws but to stare at the Dorian Gray inside you is another.

I hate me. Personally I don't see myself being worth two hot shits from a diaheretic horse at Derby but maybe my own perspective is skewed. Maybe I don't see myself as others see me.

I'm always picked last unless there's a shit job - then everyone need someone like me.

The tears well up, but they won't rush out. The whiskey stings my senses but I don't know any other way to cope with myself or my own inadequacies right now. All I wish is that "In vino veritas" would keep to Wild Turkey also; or maybe that's for vodka.

I sat, trying to cry outside ... I wasn't able to get ahold of the little dog Brownie, and I grew frustrated. It's just another tic on the side of my mind gnawing at me, reminding me I have no control and no help and no way to be successful. If I can't control the little things what makes me even IMAGINE that a dream should come true for me? Why the Hell should I go on living today, even tonight?

Why shouldn't it all stop now ... a quick slit ... deep, sharp. A few painkillers and a little more whiskey and a warm bath, and like the old Roman senators, I slide on into never-was-to-be where I finally belong. There's some pain killers left from an old injury - 1000mg or so. I was told not to drive or operate machinery but fuck, those days are WAY gone. Gone when I was a man, not an impotent grousing monster mewling from his personal corner of abandonment.

I feel the seepage, like the blood trickling out of a closed wound, a little drama to the marauding sadness of the ecstacy of the injory ending so swiftly. Maybe a little more whiskey will help.

Maybe not.

Sliced toasted bread grilled with butter my dinner, and I hate myself, dessert.
I advise they listen. I can't talk - they'll never hear me nor I myself. There's a cacophony of unfueled sadness sitting on the ground, maybe needing a spark to send it to the moon, or to roast it to embers and finally be done with it. Ashes to ashes, bullshit to dust.

I've tried purging my toxicity, but noone wants to see that side of me. I have dark, evil sick fantasies that would either end in murder, rape or both. That or arson ... I liked that. Arson is wonderful gentle friend; the flames crackle, and if you're not directly connected and doing it for you and not profit then it can be quite satisfying and calming.

Noone wants that side of me.

Not even me.

(pause)

Can you tell the people you love & who love you how much you hate them? How you'd throttle them and hide their bodies if you could? Has it crossed your mind lately, this morbid thought and hateful notion? Even in the anominity of the internet, am I still nothing more than a gnat, a grain of sand as an irritant to be quickly washed away and forgotten.

Did you surpass 30 sadly? Has the glimmer of the old dreams tarnished on the shores of sand and waste disposed recklessly, ruining the beauty of being great and wonderful now replaced with mediocrity and haste, complacency, and insecurity? Do I feel beautiful? Is a tank beautiful, or a rifle? Like me aren't they tools, needing always to be complete and being left empty as husk, ruined and defiled when the ammunition is spent and the war ends?

I'd rather be a sword, an extension of the warrior. Carved, intricate, gleaming, touched ... not just an edge or a rapid thrust, but a symbol, a use and eventually, a plowshare.

Anything good in my life I fuck up royally. Any truth I twist to my own misery plan or to hide whatever shit-sandwich I am currently feasting on in this life. All I can ever be is the louse, the scumbag, the embarrassment, the disappointment. And even in moments of elation or triumph, they're never enough.

Was 40 the way you're always going to see life, as a wag of a rat as the blood trickles out of you drop by fuckin' drop? Aren't you always on the outside looking in, wishing it were you wanted ... chosen, not just taken because maybe you can't do any better than mediocre? And don't you hate disappointing those who never expected a lot anyway and got less than that from your fucked-up cranium and blackened soul?
Are you ready to contemplate lonliness? Emptiness?

Death, or maybe just a real expressed emotion? A honest thought?

I wept a little while softly sing from Elton John's "Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word", and I don't know if they're true to my feelings or if they're just a reaction to my fleeting feelings of failure and the allowance of Wild Turkey snippets in my thoughts.

Or maybe it was "Tiny Dancer" ...

Fatigue creeps in and I just don't care to have an honest feeling. They don't matter to anyone but me and even I grow tired of my own whining and indecisiveness and bullshit.

I'm not gonna die.

Just sleep.

But sadly just not long enough for it to be satisfying.

I never felt alive though I've done some stupid & risky things.

Maybe I've been dead inside too long. Salted earth that no seed can make purchase of soil or toil.

Maybe this is my Hell.

My absence of Love, from God or security or family or friends.

Maybe it is time to leave.

(pause)

Tomorrow morning I'll be at school in the morning loathing all I am doing.

Always tomorrow ... even for death.

Ha ha ha.


~ j ~

--------
Artist: Skid Row
Song: Quicksand Jesus
Album: Slave To The Grind 1991

She caught the melting sky
It burned but still the winter passes
by and by
To the other side
A slow parade of wind
That blows through trees
That wilted with the season's children
Are we saved by the words
of bastard saints
Do we live in fear or faith
Tell me now who's behind the rain
A maze of tangled grace
The symptoms of ?for real? are
crumbling from embrace
But still we chase..the shadows
of belief
And new religion clouds our visions of
the roots of our souls
Are we ashamed of our own fate
Or play the fool for our own sake
Tell me who's behind the rain
What do we need where do we go
When we get where we don't know
Why should we doubt the virgin white
of fallen snow
When faith's our shelter from the cold
Quicksand Jesus I'm so far away
without you
Quicksand Jesus I'm so far away
without you
Quicksand Jesus I'm so far away
without you
Quicksand Jesus I need you
Quicksand Jesus I belive you
Quicksand Jesus I'm so far away

http://www.kovideo.net/lyrics/s/Skid-Row/Quicksand-Jesus.html

------------
Artist: Winger
Song: Headed For A Heartbreak

Yeah
Morning came and I was on my way
When you reminded me
I had too soon forgotten
It was you that set me free
Yeah, you were here when I came
You'll be here when I'm gone
So don't be waiting on love
Because I'll be waiting to ramble on
Headed for a heartbreak
Headed for a heartbreak
Darling, don't wait up for me
Tonight I won't be home
You've become a stranger
I just got to be alone
Don't need nobody on my side
To know the plane I'm on
So don't be waiting on love
'Cause I'll be waiting to ramble on
Headed for a heartbreak
Headed for a heartbreak
Headed for a heartbreak
It's not a mistake
Don't you think I can feel the pain
I walk away
To live again
Headed for a heartbreak
Headed for a heartbreak
(Don't make me hurt you)
Headed for a heartbreak
(Well I don't know_______)
Headed for a heartbreak
Don't you think I feel the pain

http://www.kovideo.net/lyrics/w/Winger/Headed-For-A-Heartbreak.html

---------

Artist: Corey Taylor
Song: Bother

Wish I was too dead to cry
My self affliction fades
Stones to throw at my creator
Masochists to which I cater
You don't need to bother
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on
I won't let go 'til it bleeds
Wish I was too dead to care
If indeed I cared at all
Never had a voice to protest
So you fed me shit to digest
I wish I had a reason
My flaws are open season
For this I gave up trying
One good turn deserves my dying
You don't need to bother
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on
I won't let go 'til it bleeds
Wish I'd died instead of lived
A zombie hides my face
Shell forgotten with its memories
Diaries left with cryptic entries
And you don't need to bother
I don't need to be
(I dont need to be)
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on
I won't let go 'til it bleeds
You don't need to bother
I don't need to be, yeah
(I dont need to be)
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on
(once I hold on)
I'll never live down my deceits

http://www.kovideo.net/lyrics/c/Corey-Taylor/Bother.html