i have such a swirling chorus of concerns

did my level best to sleep all fucking day, now what? make like modest mouse and drink the rest away? try to be lucid and explain myself here? i don't think i can find the right combination of words and punctuation with a clear head tonight. maybe i'm too entrenched in lamps and domesticity, it all makes me want to run away as fast as i can. should go for a bike ride, where? who gives a fuck? i never want everything to be simple, i would fucking hate it if i went to bed and woke up and bought new clothes. i was raised with a certain disdain for nearly everything, a way of focusing on the futility and the disrepair that surrounds us. live within yourself, i was told. inner resources. and now i'm butting heads with all that i see around me, all this handholding and goal-achieving and success. FUCKcess. makes me hide even more, hide in plain sight, unapologetic and bored. there isn't anything that looks right. there are no role models as far as i can see. william burroughs, jay? racetrack junkies? i want to cry on someone's shoulder but everyone's so sarcastic. what i REALLY want is some fucking soda, but i was thinking maybe i shouldn't, but i guess that means i should. run straight at the devil and kick him in the shins. leatherman prepared leather seats automatic carwash self-cleaning oven pot holders and one too many pairs of shoes. jimi hendrix greatest hits 24hour grocery store i used to live right next to mississippi and now all there is is a patio full of CRAP and a vacant audience. i mean absent. not vacant. 'you said you'd always be there, but where are you now?' i remember promises that were never made, anything to make me less to blame. this is not confidential.