Thursday, April 14, 2011
Psycho Juice Blue
Were it not for the particular proportion of reading that I pretend to do, or the constant gaming and lack of cleaning that I actually do, I feel that I would still be taken. Not abducted or stolen or even lost, but taken in heart and being. My procrastination when it comes to relationships and laziness when it comes to particular emotions has always been one of my loveliest downfalls. It's lead to a lack of fulfilling romance that I've filled with drugs, emotionless denial, rude persona, and a certain degree of absurdity. This bland, nonsensical, chemical romance is now all I have. I welcome it. I feel I've not only seen the edge, but I've leaped as high as I could and fallen, nose over tail, down to the jagged, unforgiving, unrelenting nothingness beyond. Or perhaps it's not nothingness but rather everythingness. I should realize that this, my sweet downfall, is something unwanted and unneeded, something to worry about. Something that should keep me up at night, sweating while making plans to better myself. Instead, I find myself smiling at the pure bit of nonsense my life has become. My life has become immeasurably better since I have been forced to stop taking it seriously. I have voluntarily turned my existence into a post modern, weird circle jerk of blunt, truthful, and uncaring humor. I'm a jerk. the biggest jerk you know. And don't misinterpret. Jerks, assholes, douche bags, dicks, and mean people are not the same thing. So maybe it is good and right that I'm not taken. I hated sharing my bed anyway. And yet, who the hell am I kidding? I carry a condom in my jackets inner pocket, for fucks sake. I don't remember where I got it. What i do remember is coming home to a private LSD party, then subsequently getting lost in my bathroom. It's not that i couldn't find the door. It was that damn mirror. If you ever want to look in a mirror while mind altering liquids flow through your body, then you get what any such idiot deserves. Every flaw, every wasted opportunity, every potential moment unlived, every embarrassment, every single good thing gone bad, they all come pouring out of your pores and present themselves with a bow and a smile. seconds turn to hours, and I'm just standing there, not blinking, not moving, not breathing. You ever turn blue while on psycho juice? I had no one to tear me away. No distractions at all. Just me and that palm reading piece of glass. I have no idea how long I stood there. I woke up in Maryland with a different tie on and a condom in my pocket. so there it stays. Since that night, four months ago, I have done this three more times, and each time I wake up somewhere new and exciting with interesting things in my pockets. Once I cleaned my whole apartment. I plan on doing it at least once a month until it kills me or until I get tired of it.