when 1000 thoughts become 1 million.

i will bring down everyone i love. with an uzi.

"we're all just victims, of a perfect world."

several other things.

the distrust has begun already.

1 million thoughts in my head.

don't say she's rebounding. i already thought about that. i don't need people feeding me distrust.

i don't want to tell everyone. i don't want to make it a big deal. i don't want it to be simply for show.

i don't want to quit playing tag. i don't want her to lift her head.

i want to be able to trust. my life's not been THAT fucked up. yet the fucked up lives of those surrounding poored into the glass of my problems. the glass is not half empty. it's about 2/3 full. i'm trying to drink all of them down and be ok, but the taste is so bitter. it is so difficult to simply swallow. and people reminding me of the flavor simply frightens me to drink from the glass.

that was a fairly big metaphor. i hope people can understand it. if not, oh well. not everyone needs to. only a few people would truely understand even if i said it blatantly. "you can't understand because i paraphrase."

my black wristlets offer me something. they look good. they symbolize me changing: i could never stand to have things on my wrists, but these are comfortable. they symbolize the bindings i wear from my relationships: friends, family, religous, and otherwise. they offer the black that has comforted me throughout my darkest days, yet offer a leather texture foreign to my skin. they make me want to paint my nails black, which makes me want to quit biting my nails, which would be good.

i wish i cried when i was happy. i've never cried from happiness. for the past several years, i've only cried from sadness twice. when my father died and when my uncle died. only SERIOUSLY significant, permanent loss brings tears of sorrow. yet half the time i sing i cry. out of neither sorrow nor joy. i cry from overwhelming emotions.

with the exception of employment, i'm entirely happy with my life. all i need is a job and a band. yet, my mind turns to my friends' problems for problems. excessive drug use, being used by a woman, being unable to attain the desired woman, desiring a malicous woman, being haunted by a past woman. all of these plague my friends. and i suffer as i watch them suffer. i have an inability to detach myself as others seem to find so easy.

"i want to see the pain come rolling through. i want to see it rolling down your face. i want you to hurt. like me. because i can only hurt so much."

i am happy enough that i have 1000 incomprehensible thoughts flooding my psyche. "i just had to be something. i had to be someone. but, i'm overcome by my own self-doubt. now, where's my freedom? where's my life? where's my god? where's my way out? THE BLOODY AFTER-TASTE!" each of those 1000 happy thoughts is partnered with 1000 unhappy thoughts. with 1,001,000 thoughts in my head, i can not sort through shit.

"i miss my home in happy hell."

tomorrow i will awaken, i will look for a job, and i will call at 3. by tomorrow, i will have organized better. it's only day 2. shit gets better. she cares, genuinely. that only leaves me with 999,999 to sort.

The End

sincerely, all quotes are from Revielle.

ps: i overanylize things. welcome to my world.