Spending
my life bowing
down to the wants
and whims and opinions of
others has been fucking exhausting.

I'm beyond
tired of it.

So a few nights ago
I posted a picture and
let a part of my nature be
known.
Some say that it has always been known.
Others are acting like it is
a huge surprise.

I'm not really sure
if it is passive aggressive or
aggressive-aggressive.
But I plan on digging my heels in.

I would say this
is the worst case of
writer's block I've ever had.
But
I'm never sure.

what
if the words that come out
sound bad
what if people don't like them
what if everyone worries
and thinks that I'm terrible
and that the words are terrible
what if they don't like me for my
ideas
what if I get stuck
what if I never have time
for writing
what if
what if
what if

My blood sings with words.

There are a thousand thoughts
a million words
and stories that want to be written
that constantly are in my head
that never shut the hell up
write write write
write forever
write morbid
write dying
write horrible
but just let it out

"What is the most basic article of faith?"
"This is not all that we are."

Only in Dreams Do things work out

Unless they are my dreams
which have recently featured
a great deal of blood and fear


Some days are harder than others
for instance
I got a message yesterday
that said
verbatim


Once a whore always a whore! Not only are you a fucking cow you also have no integrity or loyalty and you deserve every pound of your morbid obesity you slimy scum of the Earth!!!!
~Anonymous

As you might imagine,
this is fascinating to me. 
At first it was ugly and made
me very very angry
especially after seeing that I was 
not the only person in my family to 
receive such a message. It helped 
because it allowed me to pinpoint who
sends such things online.
 And now I know.
And after talking to a few friends
I still have no idea
of the why. And it pains me
and I don't know why.
As it turns out, I have not completely
divorced myself from giving a shit
what other people think.

It isn't nice to call people names
or try and mess with their relationships
and family.
It isn't very nice
at all.

I swear I'll stop obsessing about this soon
but 

In the words of Veronica Mars
"We used to be friends, a long time ago."
and to be honest
those words
haunt me.

Painful Eyes

To remember on days where
things hurt too damn much
and the drugs are wrong
or they don't worth and
the anxiety ramps up because
no money and scary doctors.

There are good things.

I get kisses all day every day.
the hope of future pets.
friends I can call and laugh with.
Red sheets and blankets.
watching iron man.
Hot tea.
sex.
introducing Sherlock to a new person.
jimmy johns and the hilarity that goes with it.
Eating soup with friends.
cigar with your brother.
the feeling of reality correcting itself.
my kindle and all of the books
kitchen dance parties.
text from last night
good stories
finding out you have a million things in common with someone you are just getting to know.
tumblr funnies
good quotes
fresh water
a good backrub
ambien
howling out songs
hearing someone say i love you
lying on the ground talking to my friends

Standard Dreaming

I
think of the
nameless ones often
because in their nonexistence
and nonexistent comfort, I imagine
them to be standing in front of me
with their backs to me.
All I can think of to do is to rest my head
on their back or shoulders.
This is a rarity, because even in my fears
and anxieties, and in my dreams
I am afraid to hurt or overextend someone else's good will
simply by touching them.

In my most comforting of dreams
though
they let me rest my head on them
for a little while
and they take my hand
and they let me feel my pain
and maybe listen a little bit
but mostly just are present with me
they are able to know the ugly me
and process it
and touch me regardless
and then just to be
with me.

Comforting me involves
drinks, preferably warm drinks like tea
and maybe tissues
and the ability to sit with me
until I can tell the truth of the matter
without disguising it with all my
jokes.