punch to self

getting sick of always having to find something to be anxious about, a reason not to sleep. chill the fuck out, dude. relax, go to the airport, close your eyes. come to terms with daylight, lay off the dew, etc whatev.


right. NO. i embrace this. i writhe on god's floor like an ecstatic cat, and i don't have to stop. anxiety makes me real and fear makes me light and soda makes me pee. if i don't worry about these people, who will? food and kitchens are not for me these days. i can't be weighed down. i'd rather stare out the passenger window of a new car, hug myself and pretend i'm dreaming. mumblemumble false perception shake off this hope pollute this clean air delay that repair the daylight keeps pushing. i've never given myself over to anyone, and the prospect makes me weak. always retreating and making conversation and saving myself for some uncertain future.

i feel sick with separation.