The cold's finally lifted from Chicago. The sun pours in through my tall windows each morning revealing all the dust waiting for me on my long hardwood floors, patience to be diligently brushed into their corners.
So why do I feel so pained? I feel weaker with each new day. My responsibilities weigh on me and the strain is pushing my friends away. I'm so tired. I haven't talked to my parents in months.
I can't feel my step when I walk. I float through the street like a wraith with tears in my eyes. They're here with me even now as I write this email.
I spend most nights drinking and the days sucking down cigarettes. Blow and adderall give me the energy to keep on running but the liquor helps me forget the need.
I feel cold. The days have been drifting again and the people in my life fade in and out like so many ghosts in a fog. I know one day an angel will appear like a vision from the heavens and clear it all all away but today is not that day.
And she's a bitch and I'm the bastard, and there's a deadness in the air and I want it gone.
I had a night terror about the Reaper.
He was standing out on the balcony, I saw him through the window. Then he was in the room and he was holding my wrist.
I woke up on the floor. Again with tears in my eyes. And lying in the dark I thought to myself:
Was I born with this hole in my chest, or did someone put it there?
These days I'm all over the place and I'm barely holding it together. But nothing has broke me yet. Not once not yet.
Your partner in despair,
\\ | 10.13:bone_cold | 10.07:ketamine | 10.06:s.f.k. | 10.02:green_dragon | 9.23:homeotechnology | 9.21:c.a.t.h.r. | 9.14:lost_souls | 9.07:luodong | 8.31:xr | 8.27:midlands | 8.21:ghosts | 3.7:angels