It definately sucks when you wish to change, yet can't... be it lack of a place to live, lack of money, lack of someone willing to reach out.
Having nothing to say, to reassure... to ease.
Stuck in this hell of my own devising that will haunt me forever until death, most likely.
I shove it all away, wear this mask.. this facade.
Nothing is ok.
Well, the time is nearly upon me... leaving in 4 hours to see my PO.
Do I have a clue of what I'm gonna tell him about where I was? No.
Ah well, maybe he won't violate me... doubtful but we'll see..
It's only 4 years, the judge did say if he saw me again he'd violate give me all my time back. Maybe I'll get a degree or something, get another GED cause I lost mine... it's pretty easy. Learn a trade...
Didn't think I'd be writing another one of these so soon...
Not really sure what else there is to say on the matter...
I know I should sleep, tried.. can't, maybe I'll try again soonish. I can try sleeping in the car too, 6 hour drive or so... maybe I'll luck out and be back in a few days... if not, que sera que sera...
Do know you're loved even though I get incredibly stupid... you know who you are. The one thing that makes everything kinda seem ok and who sees me in a light that I don't see so myself and keeps reminding me... maybe it'll turn out ok...
Maybe..
Have had this song on repeat for a while... bad prolly but eh...
The Magenetic Fields
All the umbrellas in london:
If I went through the night, i'll be all right.
It'll make a good song or something.
I've been trying to give my self, reasons to live.
But I really can't think of one thing.
I drive around, I walk around in circles.
Cause I got no sense of direction.
I guess I got no sense at all.
All the umbrellas in London couldn't stop this rain.
And all the dope in New York couldn't kill this pain.
And all the money in Tokyo couldn't make me stay.
All the umbrellas in London couldn't stop this rain.
I don't cry anymore, I walk out of the door.
And I usually keep on walking.
I may sit at a bar where the cocktails are.
But I really don't feel like talking.
I ride around, and let the darkness fall.
Cause I got a sense of perfection.
And nothing makes much sense at all.
All the umbrellas in London couldn't stop this rain.
And all the dope in New York couldn't kill this pain.
And all the money in Tokyo couldn't make me stay.
All the umbrellas in London couldn't stop this rain.
People do and say stupid things.
Usually in the heat of the moment... or under considerable stress.
Maybe I don't show it enough.
Still, even trying, I keep shit to close.. to myself.
So I'll say it here.
I'm fucking terrified.
Absolutely terrified, I have but a few days left till the gavel falls.
Will it be good?
Will I come back still free?
I don't know and that's what frightens me... nay, terrifies me.
Maybe if I talked more, maybe if I opened up more... people would understand this multi-faceted individual that I sometimes am.
Or maybe I delude myself?
Maybe I'm not that multi-faceted, lie to myself... I'm this way and that's it. I hope not. I try not to be.
Ever since years back I've been this way, lost loves do that to you, huge mistakes do that to you, burning bridges does that to you..
Especially when it's all your fault.
Desperately groping for a ray of light that fades with each mistep I make.
I don't think about stupid shit, but sometimes it's there... far off whispering across the miles, "make it simpler for everyone.."
I tried once, failed of course... story of my life eh? I don't want to walk that road, never really did, but shit just keeps piling up, the walls get bigger each time I look, the ray of light continually fading...
Then sometimes it all seems perfect, it all just melts... reading someones letters, concocting odd little fantasies, never wanting to wake up from dreams...
Then I mess that up too, way to go pal... gold star for you.
Ah well, we'll see what happens Monday... maybe I'll post tomorrow, doubt it... and if I'm gone again.. well, I'll be playing spades, eatting horrid food, and lamenting it all yet again.
It makes you blind, it does you in
It makes you think you're pretty tough
It makes you prone to crime and sin
It makes you say thing off the cuff
It's very small and made of glass
and grossly over-advertised
It turns a genius into an ass
and makes a fool think he is wise
It could make you regret your birth
or turn cartwheels in your best suit
It costs a lot more than it's worth
and yet there is no substitute
They keep it on a higher shelf
the older and more pure it grows
It has no color in itself
but it can make you see rainbows
You can find it at the Bowery
or you can find it at Elaine's
It makes your words more flowery
It makes the sun shine, makes it rain
You just get what they put in
and they never put in enough
Love is like a bottle of gin
but a bottle of gin is not like love
Waking up around 4 am, I get up.. stretch my legs... wash my face.
One of the guards strolls by... they're about to serve coffee and we start talking... just meaningless chit chat. My celly wakes up.
Coffee comes by... I add my creamer and sugar and that's when I realize...
I'm supposed to be out.. I'm not supposed to be here.
I savegely start pinching myself... no, it couldn't have been a dream.
Realizing it has been... it's brings me to tears as I sink to the floor...
Closing them to dislodge the droplets of anguish...
I open them to an alarm clock... here, not there...
I hope I don't make a habit of this.