Thursday, September 20, 2007

hold steady. make them like you.

wild mood swings, despair, elation, caffeine, menthols. reading about my hometown, births, weddings, everything.

this blaring music, deafening, distracting me from the growing lump in my throat. why did i leave, why was it so easy? why don't i go back? why does it seem so natural to live one month at a time?

started the job today, hell to get out of bed at 6:30am, rad to fly downtown, touching to be back among my favorite coworkers, maybe ever. feels good to have something to fill up the days, right? sure. keep feeling like i'm on the verge of getting my shit together, and then i go to the minimart and slip away again. my fingernails are turning colors from all this smoking, hide them under pink sparkles. HA. broken furnace, no food, no money, dirty jackets. part of me wants to go to jail.

jonny: instead of digging around in your comments, i'll just address you here and now. i was indeed drinksick when i wrote that shit; god knows who she is; i know you too, asshole.

soaring chorus, still feel vaguely ill, leftovers from plaid pantry's finest. going to straighten up for a while, carry a pocket knife again, flirt with the idea of buying food, all that. right.

anyone up for a field trip to moulton? pull some funds together, spend a winter week in north alabama? bring music, notebooks, american spirits. sharpies and makeshift drawls. mess up, err, dismantle, regress. slip and fall, withdraw, drop the ball, miss a flight. get bored and sleep it all away.

how does this all look/sound? work for a while, get restless, sleep a lot, work again. midway through the twenties, godammit. i'll just laugh if anyone tries to tell me another fucking way.

i never saw that girl again.


Blogger Jesse said...

all the things you have ever wanted, there isn't one of them i won't do

10:51 PM  
Blogger l said...

i want to be cyndel hood's friend.

she rocks.

and apparently makes more money than me.

12:14 PM  

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