My man body. in The grotesque metamorphosis of a Bi-Polar human into a Tri-polar monster.

  • Feb. 3, 2018, 1:37 a.m.
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I look at my man body sometimes and I just can’t believe what I see.
I’ve got a little beer belly that won’t seem to go away (probably because I won’t seem to stop drinking beer and I don’t exercise…but I never used to have to worry about this).
My hair is thinning. (I’m starting to get a pretty intense widow’s peak and it’s freaking me out).
I get all these weird zits on my body that I never used to get before.
My gums are receding.

I’m starting to get a ton of grey hairs.

It’s all just so weird because when I look at myself, I don’t feel like I’m turning into a man, I still feel like a child in so many ways.
On the flip-side of that coin, every since I was born I have always felt ancient.
I feel like an ancient baby.

It’s hard because I honestly never thought I was going to live to see 30.
There’s just something about starting smoking cigarettes at 12, drinking and weed by 13, a cocaine habit by 16, smoking crack by 17, getting Oxy from a dying man at age 19, smoking and snorting heroin at 20…

…it just kind of makes you think maybe you’re going to die soon.

I don’t know how I haven’t.

I really don’t.

I got into a car wreck when I was 17 that was so bad that when my dad called the hospital to see where I was they told him they thought the driver of my car was probably deceased…and yet I pulled through, didn’t I?

When I was 15 I crashed a four wheeler into a barbed wire fence, got clothes-lined by the barbed wire, back flipped over the four wheeler, and got dragged through the desert, tangled in barbed wire, over cactus and rocks and sand and dirt…

I’m still here, aren’t I?

Sometimes I wonder if it was all worth it…like, what am I supposed to be learning?
What am I supposed to be here for?
Is there even a reason?

So many of my friends have died.
I wrote a song about it.

Dane and the Death Machine: All My Friends Are Dead.

Youtube that shit if you want to.

Sometimes I think that if I was dead right now, I probably wouldn’t even notice or care at all.
But then again, there is a part of me that understands I would know exactly what I was missing.

When I did DMT, I had a brief moment where I realized that where I was was the space between life and death, and I couldn’t remember the concepts of life or death, and I knew without a doubt that I was where dead people go…I knew that I was dead, and I missed everyone so fucking terribly…I couldn’t even remember who everyone was, or what people were, but I knew that I felt this deep sense of loss, like I belonged somewhere else with someone else.

It was terrifying.
It was scary enough that I haven’t had a suicidal thought since then, and I am prone to having suicidal thoughts every day, multiple times a day.

Then again, how much of that fear was just because I was visiting? I mean, I wasn’t ACTUALLY dead, I was just where the dead go.
Maybe if I was actually dead, I would feel more peaceful.

I don’t like being this old and feeling so inadequate in so many ways.
I see people younger than me who have their shit together, all the time…living in Southern California it’s easy to feel like you’re behind.

I don’t know.

I miss having someone to cuddle.
I miss having someone I thought loved me.
I miss having someone to love.

A large part of me is absolutely convinced I will never have that again.

I…I dunno.

Sometimes life feels like a really long job that you just have to kind of get through, and there’s no set out-time…you just kind of keep working until you’re violently and abruptly told to stop.

I wish I had a better handle on things.
I wish I had a better handle on my drinking, especially.

I have a feeling alcohol is what’s going to kill me.
It’s kind of fitting.

Anyway, that’s all for tonight.
I’m done bitching.
I don’t think anyone reads this anymore.
That’s fine.
I still love you.


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