Journal Page Two Sunday

Journal Page Two

Sunday, October 28, 2012

2:51 AM

Masks, Music and Morphine. Make my heart beat slower and make my thoughts drag on. I want an escape but in this life it seems like nothing really ever provides such a relief of duty. I think of light brown eyes and for a moment my nerves are silent. Even though I know nothing of the mind behind those eyes.

 

My heart bleeds for the pain my kidneys have to go through on a day to day basis, my liver sobs and engorges itself just creating more problems.

 

Sometimes I think I should just take an early bath with this Throttle Fire stuff. Out of my league and way too complicated. At times it is apparent that nothing is worth losing or risking the friendship I have with Dr.Diamond and Sepia Dreamer.  Other times though, love seems to outweigh the risks.

 

I tried talking to the B***h Bot, that didn't go over well at all. It seems like all it did was send me deeper into the pill bottle and pull me farther away from a solution. I now know waiting for the feelings to pass is a pointless and impossible endeavor due to the fact that my minds heart does not operate in that manner.

 

Sometimes I look back at my past relationship with Juicy After, how she and I were friends before and then it escalated from there regardless of what others thought or said. Maybe with Throttle Fire I can have a second bite of the cherry. Maybe not.

 

Go for broke, take a chance, throw all of my cards on the table… unfortunately I have a s**t hand and the worst bluff ever seen. I am sure I couldn't keep this a secret from everyone for much longer. If it is even a secret anymore. Maybe they are all disappointed or laughing behind my back.

 

With all of this Throttle Fire stuff, I am simply making a rod for my own back.

 

Beyond the love situation there is this whole life thing I have to tackle. When will I no longer need these pills to function? When will my heart rate not be uncommonly high? When the f**k will I no longer have to put my entire organ system in danger to stop the pain caused by my kidneys?

 

I wish someone was here for me to talk to about all of this. Not through text or phone or f*****g Facebook. What a ridiculous addiction that bullshit is. Facebook and Drama house should be qualified as synonyms. Like suicide and love.

 

I type away and publish this bullshit on Writers Café in hopes that somebody will see it, and when this sickness takes me, or I get struck by lightning or shot over a misunderstanding or some stupid s**t happens, they will know what was in the back of my mind.

 

I am not looking for attention, I am not looking for someone to pat me on the shoulder and tell me that life has thrown me allot of s**t but I 'persevered' . I am a twenty year old kidney/liver patient with more medical bills than a hypochondriac nurse, with no job, no money, lives with his mother and father in the middle of bum f**k Egypt, no vehicle, no skills, and no light at the end of your stupid f*****g tunnel.  I have not 'Persevered'  I have not won, I have lost and it is getting worse and worse everyday.

 

Because, behind any smile, joke or funny dance I do to make it seem like I am not being eaten alive from the inside; these thoughts, these depressing emotional faggoty a*s bitchy, sickening words are stuck in my head.

 

I am disposable to everything and everyone around me. I don't even know at times if my friends love me, or just put up with me for the hell of it.

Author's Note

allot of idioms, allot of personal stuff that just can't get worked out by just sitting around letting it eat me alive. i wish i could talk to someone about it without it making me feel worse in the end.