Tuesday, December 23, 2003

NP:Swans-Red Velvet Corridor

well here i go again.

looks like life has served up another open face shit sandwitch, and my name is on the bill.

i guess it was silly of of me to think that things might actually work out for the better. they never do. i don't know if it's me, or this town, or this generation, or just the sorry state of the world in general, but i can't seem to find something that sticks.

Bliss is a Killer.

everytime i get excited, i start looking forward to new days, something comes along to fuck me in the ass and say "GOTCHA ya fucking idiot". here i am at age 20. i'm going to be 21 in 3 weeks. no girlfreind. no job. no band. no freinds. no life.

just music, movies, and books. Zoloft without the cuddly cartoon characters. the one girl that i love more than any one should love anyone doesn't want a god damn thing to do with me. i have more music knowledge and more desire than almost everyone else who is in a band right now in this shitty area and it's going to waste. i have a spiral notebook filled with lyrics that will rot away until i'm found dead in a bathtub at age 30, then they will be published and people who didn't give a shit about me in life will leech off me in death. i'll be another dead gothic icon. and that thought is so depressing that it makes me laugh, hard.

i wonder, why don't i just give up? become apathetic, listen to Coldplay, get a shitty job, go to crappy parties, smoke myself retarded and drink myself into rigor mortis. everyone else seems perfectly happy as a zombie racing to their grave, maybe that's the only way to be happy. be oblivious and anonymous. why bother trying? why torment myself for the sake of art, literature, and music?


because they're the only things in my life that haven't fucked me over. every freind i've ever had has cast me aside and forgotten about me. every girl i've ever loved thinks little to nothing of me and continue to subject themselves to one miserable relationship after another rather then be with me, because i'm not good enough for them to destroy.

my cds, my books, my DVDs/videos are always there, suppling me with a nessecery, albiet brief, catharsis. i can't talk to anyone. i can't fuck anyone. alls i got is Pig Destroyer, Taxi Driver, and Chuck Palahniuk.

and of course the ocassional porno.

PANZRAM: October 2003-December 2003.

another dead dream.

NP:Swans-Helpless Child


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