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I’m so tired.

I can feel it in my bones, an ache that simply will not fade, will not go away

To die
To sleep


To sleep.

To cease. No more. No more.
It hurts






Behold the thought, grim and terrible. To burn, to break, to bind,
To destroy
To feel the tangible turn to dust and slip through your fingertips
To taste the ash and smoke, heavy on the air
To take all you know
And let the buildings turn to rust and the wood to ash and let it all be consumed in fire and hatred
Red red black and brown
Take your love and tear it down
Dust dust ash and fire
Throw your love onto the pyre
Taste the hate and feel the pain
Pouring down like acid rain.



Jump track jump ship shooting from the hip
Like a dream frozen fire
Hanging from a broken wire

Can you feel it? Taste it? Touch it hear it see it?
The storm is approaching.
once you see it
Once you hear it
It will be too late.

No more no more no more.
I see so many lights. They glitter like stars, hanging and swinging through the black night sky of the soul. I can feel them, cold and shining. They sting.
And yet, to gaze upon them, and the infinity, to know the truth of existence, to know and to feel and to see
What beauty. What relief. What terror.
And all for a little piece of mind.


I can feel my thoughts like molten rain like fire like little strings that get all tangled up and I can’t keep track of them and I don’t know what to do I can’t see them I can’t
I can only feel them.
Feel the knots of little emotion and of thought tearing up like little breaking strings. Plink plink plink like a violin.
I can’t write. I can’t think. It doesn’t feel like any of it makes sense and none of it is useful and there’s no reason and what’s the point
What is the point


I don’t understand.


I don’t feel like I belong. I don’t belong here and I love you and I miss you so much because I don’t fit into the world like you do. I’m not useful like you are. I’m not social like you are. I’m not friendly and outgoing like you are and I’m not interesting like you are. I don’t have a point and I don’t have a meaning and I don’t have any useful skills for this world. Anything I can do you can do better; you can do anything better than me.

I’m so sorry.

I’m so sorry for everything that I have ever done to you, and for everything that I will ever do to you, and I’m sorry for complaining when I have no right to and you obviously have it worse off than I do. I feel ashamed. I feel regret and guilt for everything I have ever done—what pride is there to be had in life? What is life? Single, alone, nothing but connections
Connections in the brain, in the body, little neurons and muscles and sinews and veins. Little connections between people; mother father sister brother friend lover spouse coworkers strangers classmates
Little connections subtle and strong and irresistible. The human is a social creature. No man is an island.
Lets all just become ghosts ephemeral and weightless and alone for eternity; or let us unite and become one in thought body soul and let us never be alone again. Together forever.
I love you. I love you I love you I love you
I don’t know if you will ever understand how much.

I’m so tired. I just want to sleep and dream forever. Oblivion and live entwined together as one pattern, rem and waking world and sweet sweet oblivion.
I just want to sleep.
I’m so tired.