Type1 in Book Title.

So I came here to write down a specific thought I was having towards the end of this doob and now that I’ve arrived, all I can think is, ‘Damn, I have cottonmouth.’ (It’s 10:23am and my handiest beverage is leftover cranberry & vodka in a Pepsi bottle. (inb4 /r/crippling alcoholism lolz, you know what I mean? ))

I’m not going all the way into the kitchen right now so it’ll have to do.

What did I come in here for again?

I was thinking about being obsessive. Fixated. I was thinking about my husband. Gone, girl, to Nashville and he can’t call or send a postcard or even a good thought via a feeling I get about the universe. I’m am thinking about him twice a second. I can feel my loneliness like an ache in my bones.

It settled on my flesh as I slept
Like drops of dew on the web
Awakening, I realized
I’d been glued to my bed
Some sticky kind of
Thick dark sludge
I breathed it in,
It burned my lungs

As I struggled, I cried for help
And tears stung at my eyes
I wondered how this happened
If it started with some lies
That turned into distrust
And drove us far apart
Across the goddamned country
Divided up our hearts
Left me in this molasses
Of uncertainty and pain
Unable to breath
Pinned to my sheets again

This poem is a piece of shit
I thought I had a concept
Now it seems so childish
And this won’t even rhyme

I wish I hadn’t wasted
So much of my time
Trying to force this idea
Into stanza’d lines

Or whatever. Fuck poetry
Who even gives a shit.
Nobody has time for poetry

Sorry. Gad. I’ve been having a weird couple days. I feel like I’m in a building on fire, trying to decide if I should jump or wait. Like- is it better to burn up or fall away? Either way, it’s over. Over and done with. Like the Proclaimers song.

That song makes me melancholy. Not specifically in relation to this occasion, but in a more general sense. I like these dude’s big hollowed out voices. Whatever that means.

So now it was obsession I came to discuss, but I can’t focus. Oxymoronic. I can’t recall even what seemed important about it. Man, being stupid tho. Blissful. I bet I just avoided a shitload of stress by forgetting all about whatever I thought was important.

Goddamn. I mean, GODDAMN, I love weed.
Great job, weed! Another crisis averted!

Anyway, I guess that was the point.

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Last updated December 15, 2015