is this the alternative?

back to marilyn manson, loud as hell, i'd kill myself for no one, super fuck. upswing of the illness, three gallons of orange juice doing the trick, i am almost back to hating myself only marginally, rock and roll sores. there's something intoxicating and powerfully seductive about letting everything go. i can go buy a rockstar energy drink, down a bottle of cough syrup, talk to the cashier like it's all a fucking movie. laugh derisively at pretty much everyone, with their silly little everythings. if i want to jerk off in the handicapped stall at safeway, i'll fucking do it with a grin. i can offend you like an asshole on my elbow. on my ELBOW!! an ASSHOLE!!

i have no plans of turning back, no vague thoughts of reconciling and starting to CARE about cars and money and computers and families and jack johnson and the government and blahblahblah. i have no talents, no skills, no fucking worries. i live outside the common marketplace where such things matter, and i'm fine pissing in a mountain dew bottle. the depth of my self-absorption is only rivaled by my boredom with the right way to do things. why haven't you seen 'reign over me'?



in other news, we cleared off the patio some more yesterday! that's pretty rad.