Insomniatic Musings....

I think I liked myself better when I was on drugs. I think everyone else did too. There's something to be said for being the life of the party vs. being the crazy one locked in her house feeling the feeling of bugs crawling on stretched skin and cells dying or multiplying depending on the occasion.
It's amazing how sane I feel until I'm around other people and then I question the reality of what is real or normal. I question the ability to be so emotionally detached from people and memories, theories and music. Oh yeah, there's something orgasmic about the music that is made out there in the world. It's the one thing in this inhumane humanity that knows no boundaries of race, or sex, or sexual orientation, or shoe size. There's nothing like rolling up to a stop light and hearing the guy who you just flipped off rocking out to the same song as you are and some how you feel like maybe he's not such a bad guy if he likes Nirvana or Green Day, or Janis Joplin, or Jay-Z or whatever in the hell that last song was that you were listening to.
I used to have a lot of friends until they realized I was crazy or on the verge of being so, and I realized they were boring. Even those who once seemed so bold and different were all members of the same rebellion. There was nothing different about them at all other than location. I often feel like I'm stuck in a suspended state of time while the rest of the world keeps spinning. Every time I see a familiar face it has aged while I feel as though I've stayed the same. There's nothing like getting lost in your own mind to keep you young at heart.
I watch quirky things on television when there are such quirky things to watch. In each of them I feel there lies a certain line of truth about life but if you get up before a commercial you might just miss it. Other people are too busy making money to realize that life is passing them by. I guess that's why I will die broke.
I get totally freaked out hearing about the end of the world even if it won't be for another 5 billion years. There's something about the thought of what it will be like when the Earth exists no longer and we have long ago departed that makes me sad and nervous and excited all at the same time.
When I was a child, I watched a man die. He was lying on the cement surrounded by strangers. It was a car crash. I don't know how he got there, on the pavement I mean. I just know that he looked like a kind man, as he looked back at me. We exchanged glances like notes being passed in the hands of middle schoolers. Mine said I was sorry, his said he was too. I don't know what he was sorry for but I have felt the sorrow ever since.
I played chess with a man that was declared unstable by the government and every person that ever looked at him. It was the most enlightening three hours of my life. I would have given him a kidney or my soul except that he was one of the few people that wasn't asking for anything in return for the gift he was giving me.
I had a gun put to my head and learned very quickly that I couldn't trust anyone no matter how much they said they loved me. I was raped and reminded again how I could never trust anyone despite the words that they said. My words are my currency. It's all I have and everyone of them is filled with more sincerity than the pay check you work so tirelessly for. I've been told that I was a liar by people who had never known truth and abducted by Christians who wanted my sex.
It's amazing how one can see it all and know so little, but I will be the first to admit that I know nothing. I question reality. I question authority. I question myself. I question who will read this dribble and find my lines of truth hidden between the texts.
I don't expect to be believed. I mean, just look at me. I'm a junkie, I'm a whore, I'm a dyke, I'm a fiend. I'm a liar, I'm a sinner, I'm the God damned Joker. What is it that you're looking for? You see there I go again, with the questions. The questions race in circles, lap after lap, around my mind as I am the chicken just trying to cross the road. All I want is to make it to the other side.
I don't know when it happened, my transition from sane to insane or why for that matter. Perhaps it was so gradual that I didn't notice but I have been trying to find my way back for some time. I used to have friends once, but they all realized that I wasn't one of them, and I... Well... I was glad.

Runaway

The first time I ever thought about running away I was roughly six years old. I had watched the movie Pee Wee's Big Adventure, and seen the part where he's walking down the road carrying a pole over his shoulder. I took a pillowcase, but a few belongings in it, and tied it to the end of a golf club.

I started off down the stairs with no idea of where I was going. All I knew was that I didn't want to be where I was. At six years old I already knew that there was a whole world outside waiting for me.

I didn't belong in my house because I didn't fit in there. Within minutes my quest for freedom, my stepmother snatched me by the arm, and began spanking me. She was yelling at me and asking me what in the hell I thought I was doing and where I was going. I remember feeling the pit inside my stomach open up as it swallowed my soul; my childhood was over as quickly as it had begun.

This Cage

I am stoned
on a Friday,
afternoon
The music lingers
like a cloud in the back of my mind
I'm suddenly becoming harder to find
I tried to lose myself
on a crowded street
but no matter where I went
I always came back to me.
Hard to be anything anymore
I lost my face
Once I was given a number

There's nothing social or secure about it
Am I the only one who
bothers to wonder
How the generation that gave us peace and love
now heard us like we're cattle?
(Don't Shove!)
The world's suddenly in a hurry to reach their doom
I mean destiny
But me I'm a tortoise in this race
I can't let them get the best of me
I refuse to be silenced.
and if they want me gone, they'll have to arrest me.
The things I see
and the things I hear,
just don't match up
Peace and love
are more important than how desperate of a housewife you are
Me, I'll take the life of a farmer
over the need for a suit of armor
Yeah peace and love
It's my favorite drug
and all the rage
Come with me,
let's break out of this cage!

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NaNoWriMo

During the month of November, the folks over at NanoWriMo held a writing contest of sorts where they tried to inspire writers to write a novel of 50,000 words within a single 30 day period.

I spent roughly a week actually writing over the course of the November and managed to complete the challenge with 50,114 words.

Let me know it if you'd like to read it!

You wanted poetry, You got it!

Requests have been pouring in via EastCoastPoet.com requesting that I start posting again and that i start adding more to my site.

For those of you who've found this page via www.eastcoastpoet.com, congratulations you found my egg.

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