i'm dreaming or living in a muffled memory. sometimes i jot things down while i'm not paying attention to myself.. i go back and try to figure out if it was i who wrote it down in the first place.. or was i mocking something? i don't know. the mind is truly the last fascinating facet of humanity.

"we are the raving writing
on the creamy smooth texture
of the artist who sees the
world in dissillusion where
realities are clear and missed.
we are driving ourselves into
the maddness of order, why wreckage
ourselves to the deportment of
decadence? are we not who we are not
in the presence of what we are?"

i'm so lonely, tired, and depressed tonight. another bout no doubt. it shall pass.
i think this whole experience is good for me. it's made me realize how much i wasted on "daily livings".. i envy most of the people i know online..they've all got jobs and that pretty much means..after hours belong to them....as well as weekends. and they create such fine and beautiful things...words, ideas, poetry, art, photography...
i have barely the time to remember my name.. and when this has passed.. i shall miss the intensity of it all...

that is who i am.. eternally ungrateful..eternally unhappy with who and what i am.