paranoid

i am betrayed by psychotic liars. liars buyers sellers and story tellers. i am betrayed by whores.

i suppose they love the articulate the passionate the strong and the bright eyed. my friend has none of the above. cancel her last order she'll be eating alone and with vengeance...probably cold. because that's how it came recommended. throw in a few big words and they'll come lapping at your feet like dogs but don't make sense to them...just whisper lullabies and compassion...beg for their pity...i hate their whispers...i may be on a lot of sedatives...but truth be told i'm as sober as a bucket...or was it lonely...but as far as the other one is concerned...hey!!!! so how come i get the least? how come one gets to drive, one gets to buy, one gets to smile and pose and one gets to kiss? all i get is dreams, nightmares, hallucinations...sit stare smoke repeat...another day passed...press delete. i will not look at you through shrouded veils and broken pieces of cloudy nothingness because i am a dreamer...or at least i've lost enough of my marbles to know the difference between up and down but lost the significance of shadows and light. it doesn't matter because on a long enough time line...you're as lonely as a bucket.


about my friend
(i hate roses...i hate the redness of roses...they give everything away)
"so hey what do you think about my bigger picture?" she asked me...so i asked her..."what bigger picture...?everything is fine..."

"she told me it takes two to tango...and she asked me if i knew what that meant and i said "no."

"so what??" i asked..."let them play with madmen...we'll die...i mean we're bound to die...but by God we will make their lives miserable before we die hahahahaha."
"so what exactly were you doing with your shirt in the heater?" i asked her
"i was pretending to commit suicide..." she answered
"come on...that's just funny...you're too mad to kill yourself..." i said
"yeah..."
"i would've handed you a gun...to show them you couldn't do it." i said
"you know...they already tried that on me once." she answered "but the bullets were batteries and the gun was wrapped in a towel."
"that gun is always wrapped in a towel you fool..." said i

"what do you think about my bigger picture?" she asked me
"it seems fine to me...as fine it'll ever be now...come on...we're mad...let's enjoy!"

she just shook her head and left her hollowness inside.

bantering jabbering mutant...and other problems...like bliking orange messages on msn...the bane of humanity.
it's the same day for me...but it's after midnight...i have spent two weeks in one day...tomorrow i have work...the light in my room must be kept burning...i have nothing left. i can't find my pick. i can't find the door in my room that leads to the other room that nobody knows of. ever seen gas in a mirror? gas in the looking glass...swirling round and round in a familliar spiral...like price and wages hahahaha economics follows me around and i fail to find God...have you seen silhouettes of pretty girls walking in your cupboard door running off to meet estranged lovers with dreadlocks and heavy set arms that are only visible because you are the only one who has seen girls walking inside eyes on top of roads that go on forever wearing blue sweaters and white skirts...four pale faces in white shirts...only so much laughter could uncover your hurts...but i have a question to ask this actress of mine. do you really think this song is about you?

my condition is defined as too much money chasing too few goods...but you can't take that literally...because literally that means inflation...i got that out of eco...because in reality it's the exact opposite...what i mean to say is...like doctor tolkien puts it...too little butter on too much bread...i feel far too old. most drugs slow you down...time falls by like droplets in the morning... so slow that you can't tell when they land on your head and make it seem like you're waiting for someone with diamonds in your hair...it's insane...it's beautiful...it's kind of weird...why isn't it passing by? and then suddenly the next time you open your eyes it's been five weeks...you don't remember a single day...so many poems and so many stories...but if you wrote them, how come you don't remember them? this is rehab. this is rehab for the mind...i keep a record so that i can forget and not feel guilty...i'm never ashamed to fall in love with anything because i am just a boy.

this was the weekend was it?

so here it is in plain words...i am bi-polar...everybody likes to pretend that they have some sort of exotic disease...i can show you what bi-polar feels like. it is the most embarassing thing that can ever happen to you apart from child molestation and sodomy in general or in some cases...rape. bi-polar syndrome bullshit is embarassing...it embarasses you in front of friends and family...you might say that this is a very vague description...so i'll be specific. here it is in plain words...i hope you understand.

it's very embarassing.

ok here's another attempt...i need at least 6 xanax per waking period just to be able to remain stable...and by stable i mean...exist in the third person...sounds have no direct relation with me, problems are not mine...answers follow forgotten questions...i have honestly, and completely...i swear...forgotten what i was talking about and am suddenly feeling elated...as though a huge weight has been lifted off my head...i can breathe easier...but i vaguely remember being extremely angry and confused when i started writing...

i have no idea what...hahahahahhaha...this is excellent...i love this...and now i don't.

this is what it's like to be slightly unhinged. i've complained thousands of times about virgin whores...they're the worst and should be feared. i am utterly and completely confused as to what my point was supposed to be so i'll just scroll up and see what i wrote...but before i do that...i have this strange rhyme in my head that i would like to put down in writing

there stood in vapour my train of thought
i groped and grasped, and then i caught
it felt like a dream or maybe it did not
for it was just noise and not what i sought

what a load of crap...but it had to be unloaded...there...it is my job to complain till everybody buys me stuff and gives me pleasure...sexual or otherwise.
most of the people who know me consider me to be either a recluse or violent...so far none of these have been practically proven to be true...i never kill anything that can't use a credit card.
i once chopped my face up with a razor blade but that was only to look cool and as such doesn't count as violent behaviour. my people contemplate suicide but we're not cowards...we just like to show off.
you might argue that if i were living with a life partner that her body would be discovered a month later in a tub...all green and maggoty...but to be quite honest...why would somebody be stupid enough to not know that there is something slightly off about me...within a minute of meeting me...heck...i fooled the army...i can fool anybody...i contradict myself...i have a lousy sense of direction...but sometimes i'm very very scary...or at least my mother thinks so hahahahahahaha...chewy is right...if anybody reads this...they'd think i was insane...

now here's my experiment...i have written this blog in a matter of around 24 hours...there isn't much variation in subject matter...or is there? but in anycase...to me it feels like i've been doing this for weeks...my grave will have a tree on it with tiny orange fruits...although i prefer some other tree...but this is how it has to be done.

maybe i'm just sleepy.
martin pale (i'm just kidding man...or am i? or am i am i?)

p.s. have you ever smelt something that made you cry?
yes...tear gas.