Indigo Milk

The sky was like indigo milk. The rain was so loud it kept me awake. The power had gone out and the candle I had lit flickered in the drafts coming through the door. I sat up in the bed, and pulled my knees under my chin. Davy was buried somewhere under the whole quilt. He had been sleeping for hours, and his resilience to the heat and noise didn't surprise me much.

The rain changed direction and started falling on the window. I lit my last cigarette I had kept in my pocket. It was bent and I was scared to bend it back for fear it would break. Davy would have said I was "symmetrically compulsive" if he were awake. He rolled over and put his arm around my waste and snored away the rest of the night.

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This is based of fact but most of it is fiction:

I wrote a love story, but I tore it up. I didn't throw it away. I spread out the pieces on my bed. There must have been a hundred of them. I thought if I could whisper a few words over them perhaps I would coincidently conjure up some ancient spell and the words would come to life.

I read them all. Bits and pieces of words and sentences. I felt like I was reading a shitty wannabe poem. I hated my self for trying, for believing.

I brushed the little things into a bin, and lay back unfocused my eyes. If I could end right now would I want to? I thought to myself. I often though about things I would never attempt. But it made me feel braver, like I did have will power. Like I was a Viking, not afraid of death and the battle before it.

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I feel like my chest is going to explode. I really am disgusted by things today. I kept thinking about the futures of little Allistair and Miles. What are they gonna have to grow up in? I mean we might have a 17 year difference but thats a long time. Are they going to grow up with such distress in this world? but the world is pain and distress. Everything is meant to suffer, no matter where, what who you are going to be miserable. People are going to be miserable. I am never going to get over my fears. They are my pains, and ive tried to force them out. They wont quit. So thats me.

The only goals i have now are to get a job and enough moeny to back pack to New Zealand. Even if that is the rest of my life, work get enough money to travel that is fine with me. All i need is a back pack with simple things and thats it.

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Journal entry before bed

I lie awake alot of nights wondering what i am. Why i am not satisfied with myself? What i am meant to do? How my heart even beats without these answers. That the hell am i made out of...where do i get off thinking about this shit, where does the shit come from dammit!

I am certain i will never have one answer, or any that are correct. I keep thinking that reaching some points, or doing or having something will make me know the answers. I will then be satisfied with things. I would have everything I want in contentment.

But as humans we are never content of satified. I am scared i will go to college, fall in mutual love and it will not make me happy or satisfied. that they will not teach me what i am supposed to do.

What am i even talking about.

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I feel pretty much on the edge I cant hold it in any longer. How much I long for a simple embrace. Instead the abyss is holding me, there is no recognized smell here. That silver lining or gold filled feeling is gone. I can only remember the one day I had it, looking out over the houses, the sky oh so dusk colored.

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So i started posting on the other blog i am on and that didnt sound to great, everything i was saying didnt sound like it should be posted on that one. too public, probably annoy people. so here i am posting where i know it will be safe. I feel like something is wrong with me. why do i space out and drift off at really random times. i feel horrible but at the same time i like to do it. get away from reality even if i am within the comfort of my friends. but i guess that is why i do it, cause i feel safe with them. if they are talking bout stuff and im interested but only enough to listen i find i am comfortable enough to do that, just sit there stare off into no where and listen. if i were with people i felt scared of or insecure around id try to act cool and interested so as not to seem "wierd". but why still do i space out completely? why do i suddenly want to leave them and be somewhere else?

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