Standing drunk.Posted: October 4, 2008
Poolside, screaming do or die. I looked at the water and asked it,”Who am I?”. Caught my reflection, yes, I’m super fly. And as you can guess, I’m too damn high.
What am I doing? People are trying to talk to me, and I just don’t respond. What for? There’s no reason. I just don’t. And then I guess I get kind of embarrassed so I neglect to contact them back. My minds feeling like an empty beehive. No ones there, but the walls are still filled with a resonating buzz. Personally, I can’t stand my own mind. But it’s this type of mind I’m most attracted to. I have a feeling that one day I’ll meet the female version of myself, fall in love, and never do anything about it. Because if she’s truly like myself, she’s awful with relationships; the fucking slut.
The roof of my mouth feels thick and coated like I just consumed some Starbucks Whip cream; probably dry mouth from all the smoke. I wanna sleep during the day, live during the night, breathe smoke, emanate sex, and be alright.
For a while I had stopped thinking about what I was about to say before I said it. It was liberating, didn’t feel so hallowed, and (when the things I said didn’t make me sound like a complete jackass) I’d get a little burst of self-satisfaction. But now the weed well has run dry, the works gotten tough, and it takes me almost 30 seconds to process what someones said before I can even think up a reaction.
I’m currently feeling like my house would, if personified. The lights are on, the roof is repaired. But theres still moisture under the floorboards.
I hope you’ll excuse me, I have laundry to do.