my dreams are exhausting. I have to sleep so much these days,
in bed by eleven most nights and sleeping till midday

there's subterfuge, sabotage, huge conspiracies,
science fiction out the wazoo.
I wake up so tired that I consider going back to sleep again.
But I swear (quietly, to myself) that all the shit I'm doing while I'm there is what's wearing me out.
I'm getting depressed and introverted in my awake life
because,
it comes to me when I'm asked what I've been up to,
everything exciting I've done lately
has happened in my sleep.
It's a complicated case of escapism,
I try to rewire her nature too tired to wake her up
out of that artificial calm she was on
I've been on mood stabilisers for over a year now,
not counting the week without them when I could barely stand
and I hovered about half a foot above the ground,
when the doctor I eventually gathered the energy to see treated me like a junkie and scolded me for being lax with my health.
You have no idea what it's like, fat lady.
Your life may be hard sometimes but your idea of hard doesn't hurt you the way my idea of just keeping it together hurts me.

I think my mind is finding a way to exert all my stress and is just dumping it into my subconscious
I wish it wouldn't though.
I'm having a hard time functioning again
and all the stuff i can't deal with is starting to pile up.
the people around me have problems and I need to be there for them.
gimme just some pleasant stuff, let me wake up feeling happy, calm, functional.
like I'm s'posed to.

"honey, it's your imperfections that make you beautiful"

they say
they mean it
they're right
too

it's all you can do, not to cry about it
lie about it
sigh about it
round about
write and read all about it
should it out loud
or... be proud

you lose some
but if you don't do it sore
you eventually win 'em all over.
you grow on them
your faults endear you.
they like them, 'cause
they love you
'cause
you showed them
by
just being there
and not sucking
and the ones who noticed
told the ones who didn't
that you weren't shit
(cos you weren't)
then the ones who didn't
did
and you
were validated
forgot how it was to be an invalid
triple crippled;
hands, head
and heart
at the start
because you were healed by affection
appreciation
validation
so wait
don't hate
your slate is getting chalked up
the mountain you walked up
plateaued at a soft place
so let your pace slow
and let go
because






...you know...

everything is crushing, insides hurt thru, throat shrunk and swollen tight so it hurts to breath and mucus filling head to push all the good out. weighted like sacks of manure, compost, burnt hair, rotting cigarette butt refuse pushing in from all angles.choke, sputter, retreat, try to breath, repeat, sink further into the mire of selfindulgent anguish. struggle. give up. struggle again. and your eyes are slits in bags of fat. fat sack of shit. nobody likes you nobody can help. nobody is you and you are nobody.dead weight dead tired, struggle, give up, repeat. cold water, slight recedence[sic] slight calm. then clamor sadness in folds enfolding over again
struggle sputter splutter give up you sad slut. there's no point give up.drown yourself in it.let it cover you there's no point. pitching. you patch over it so often but it still tears it's gonna keep tearing your tears out over again. you can't start fresh cos we'll find you no matter how fast you run, how far, how well you hide we'll find you like the dream police. fear travels faster farther and firmer than hope. give up, we'll ruin everything you have and everything you are, we'll tear your heart open and show your insides to everyone and they'll walk away and not look back.you are the nothing, the last on everyone's list but ours, we won't forget you we will fill you with our emptiness.concede and let your hopes recede.



all your vicious dogs are so dumb, eat my crumbs.

"want anything from the shops?"
"pick me up some lube?"

I wake up with eyes like arsholes, leaking claggy discharge over the pillow case. Where am I/Who am I/who was I last night...
Lube is code, for gin or whiskey or whatever you can get you hands on, it helps you slip in and slide around more easily, y'know? I was always a stuck, awkward immobile little block of a girl before I started drinking. Just solidifying in corners while other people moved around with relative ease. Since I got my british-booze-passport I've flourished, literally hundreds of friends and aquaintances and few enemies, I've heard none of your successes count til you have someone hate you for them.

hollla to all my goatyear peeps

spring springs eternal and i'm desperate to smell, feel and taste everything. I'm getting my hands dirty right up to the elbows with a manic enthusiasm for everything, the warm sweet air makes every idea ten times better than it was during the cold. I don't have to feel panicked about getting my washing done cos it'll dry tomorrow just as well.

I'm fat with ideas and a lust for life.

candy all over

"I wanted to know the exact dimensions of hell
does this sound simple?"

I seems the only way you can think of to be happy is to try to make me sad. sorry, I'm done doing things on your behalf, you burned the shit outta that bridge, burn baby burn, the flavour of my fever's faded.
SAYONARA SUCKAS

"Fuck you! Are you for sale?
Does 'Fuck you' sound simple enough?"

I'm stronger now than I or anyone has ever imagined I'd get and I laugh and shake it off and keep going up, up and away; excelsior. So; Don't bother, you can't touch this. This is what real, honest-to-goodness happiness looks like.
Even the rain just makes the roses beautiful.

"I grew up in a shotgun row sliding down the hill out front were the big machines steel and rusty now I guess out back was the river and that big sign down the road that's where it all started come on down to the store you can buy some more, and more, and more, and more come on down to the store you can buy some more, and more, and more, and more..."

so you're saying I don't make you happy again...and it turns out you're a test.
I'm gonna pass you this time along with all the others, I'm gonna pass go and collect two hundred dollars and not of you little metal fuckers are gonna stop me even though you've lapped me so many times, I'm gaining on you. You won't even notice, sit back and count your hotels.
I just set fire to ten years worth of failure and I don't intend to see it again. I found a use for that purple nail polish remover shit, doused all that fucking crap in it and sent it up with a little blue plastic bic, fuck.
I'll Wake Up New[sic].