I’m safe, up high. Nothing can touch me.

My abuse of my amphetamine subscription is approaching critical mass.  Either I’ll wake the fuck up and everything will stabilize, or my whole fucking world will implode.

I hate that I can see all the pieces of this fucking watch.  Most people don’t even know what fucking time it is.  I see all these little pieces, some of them working harder than others, some falling behind, and some magical fucking power source that keeps the LCD lit, at least until it burns out.  I hate everything.  I fucking hate everything and everyone.  Everyone is so fucking simple.  Sure, I don’t donate to christian orphans building homes in mexico, but at least I fucking agonize over it every minute and fling myself haphazardly off the cliff of ‘none of this even matters’

You know what I need a good infusion of?  I need a good infusion of being grateful that I can brush my fucking teeth.  That I not only have the brush, and the toothpaste, but also the potable water, at any temperature I wish (within reason) and at any rate of flow that I wish.

I’m screaming at the world to wake up, but I’m too frantic to realize I’m in a glass box, so all ‘dem bitches can’t hear me. 

ahh, yes, now off to transfer my addiction and go smoke some pot and play videogames.

pseudo-sedation.  like tylenol threes when you just want some vicodin.  or in my case, oxy contin.

yummy mood this entry – I like this food for thought.  I’m actually puking, and then drawing shapes in the vomit – trying to divine some greater meaning, when in all reality, nothing matters, and I’m tragically aware of it.