My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

I am creative.

I am smart.

I am a writer.

I am dark.

I am damaged.

I am haunted.

I am fun.

I am sad.

I am a good person who has done bad things.

I am loving.

I am kind.

I am alone.

I am better than breaking.

Tomorrow, tomorrow I will focus and write something real.

So, I’m still struggling with writing, with a lot. I’m working on it.

I have too many thoughts in my head, it’s a mess, crowded and cluttered. The solitude, my big, showy, digital self-banishment, that hasn’t helped. Not that it would, not that it could. I mean, my being broken inside, my not being able to write or focus, or feel anything good, none of that has anything to  do with IMs or Tweets. I’ve done a lot of thinking recently, mostly when it’s dark and quiet, and I’m alone, wrapped in lonely. I just have to take what’s really weighing me down, and get free of that weight. I’m carrying too much, my backpack is too heavy. I’m exhausted. I’ve felt this way two Halloweens in a row, it’s so… my fault.

Is it 2008, again? Sitting in a room, my room, some room, any room, alone, wanting to be someplace else. This isn’t my room, at least, not the room in my head. That room, it’s so different.

Watching movies alone, wanting to be someplace else. Not any place else, not, “Oh, God, anywhere but here,” but someplace. Someplace nice, someplace I’ve been, but can’t seem to stay. Writing without writing, or not writing, not there’s much difference. Though, the writing without writing, that’s really more of a 2005 kind of thing. I’m so 2008, or 2005, or early 2007, or even the latter half of 2009, not that it matters. They’re all pretty much the same place.

Oh, Peter Smith-Kingsley, where are you?

I don’t have anything spectacular to write at the moment, it’s been a long day. So for now, I leave you with this…

Does she still love me?

I’m cold.

Is she thinking about me?

Why does John Doe say to Detective Somerset, “I know you…” while he’s being arrested?

I have absolutely no business out-living people like Heath Ledger and Brittany Murphy.

Will I get to see her again?

I miss her.

Why am I such a fuck up?

I love her.

Am I going to go out sad, and broken, and lost, like Kurt and Elliott?

I have to give Jimmy his birthday present.

I’m really lonely right now.

Am I going to die today?

If I don’t die, I really want to see her. I really want to hold her close and kiss her slow.

I really wish she was here right now.

I like WordPress 2.9.

Talking to Mary you know you don’t have to shout. She can hear what you’re thinking like you were saying it right out loud.

I’m scared.

Um, tomorrow, yes, I’ll write tomorrow. Though, if the zombies come I won’t be writing anything, but at that point the writing won’t really matter.

I have to say that Negative Creep is probably the most fun song to sing when in a dark mood. The words are garbled, Kurt’s pretty much just screaming into the mic, it doesn’t really tell a story, but it’s just so full of raw energy. I like to sit here sometimes, screaming with Kurt, and sometimes I still expect to feel air move past my lips and hear the voice I hear in my head.