February 2007


Still around just lazy and stuck in a routine of nothingness.

Winter blues and naked pig-tailed girls in spring, I need a haircut, a visit to the dentist and shrink, I am being chased by the Alcoholics Anonymous Mafia, I have been in pajamas for 3 days, 3 days was the morning.

Three days was the morning.
My focus three days old.
My head, it landed
To the sounds of cricket bows…

Scattered thoughts of computer chips, speed drips, and images of me in a lazyboy after dosing my benzos and buprenorphine.  A book in hand, magazines by the side.  Wishing on a dream, Hoping on an outcome.  Tobacco stained, and Mother Mary glowing golden under a halogen bulb, San Pedro pickle cacti shoots, and concaved thoughts posistion me for no escape.  Crisp fresh 20’s strewn about, some lame TV show in the background kick’n up pixelated dust.  Bringing me to a silent night, a quiet night.  Where the deer lay low and only the drunkards are strewing about the town square.  Obliterated, looking to score what ever it can be to take them higher, Take Me Higher!  $50 dollar grams of highscool grade coke, nickle speed pills, or quater century pharmy opiate.  The school girls laugh, as I grind my jaw, empty cans of ice-tea, a thought of sex, music shops, Macintosh audio, a bowl of Red Apples.  Perplexed in my shadow I take a sip of sparking dew, imaging it was summer and I would be swirling in the stars with a silly smirk on my face, instead I type randomness, its bordumb seeps from my pores.  A hot shower?  Naw not today…  File extensions and denial, are you honest with yourself.  Keep a secret to the stone, a seed to a sunflower, a seed a blackbird crackles, he is soaring into the sky flying high and has an eye on you.  His intensions are blurred by Mr. Bob Dylan as the tall grass sways in the midnight sun.  I’ll be back in a minute or two, I need to reorganize my plants and quench there thirst.  A girlfriend I feel like having but when I get one I will feel the opposite.  Fuck her and suck her, as boredum creeps around the corner, in a shiney 2-door coupe.  Hop in…  Its cool inside, a friendly face beams with an alternative presumption.  I watch her face slowly receed, I fold my mind into a paper airplane, and float on down the hall, spinning into the infinite.  You have not a clue who I am, do you know what I want?  Do I?, replied the Scarecrow as he is hanging limp guarding the veggie garden, a few seeds I did sow.  The hot summere sun, my tanned forehead prespires.  I law down in the lazy blades of grass, dirt under my finger nails, my mind bends with thoughts of the evening.  Sex by 8, a trail by 2, skirting thru my encapsulated thoughts. I grab hold of one and slip-slide it apart, as tiny little pellets of images and events raindown on me during a pharmaceutical sun shower. 

Just some kid in Extended Release formula, waiting for what he does not know. 

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One step forward and two steps back
And we’re wishin for a future, reminiscing on a flashback
Chasin a dream, hopin it exists
And we’re grittin our teeth and clinchin our fists

Bored to death as I write this, my mind is blank and I dont know where this entry will go will just have to see. Grew-up in a town infested with money, bored children, and drugs. Drugs of every shade, color, and texture. Stuck in a twisted bottle of malt liquor, many seem to exist, throwing negative comments to and fro. Sittin’ on the bumper of a Cadillac STS, saying where’s the party at? Its right here… couple grams of smack, couple grams of rock, and insane stock piles of pharmies. I am not talkin’ about that party, I wanna party… Chicks, human interaction, fuckin’ and suckin’, carbonation floats upwards as I try to grab a bubble to take me away from this place I despise. I would normally be at a bar by this time 5:40 p.m. half way thru my first 6-pack, throwing dollars into the juke box, listening to Gun’s and Rose’s, ‘One in a Million’. I would be lubricating my mind trying to disappear. Or at the very least trying to ‘forget’. Living to forget, I dont want to remember, I dont want to carry this disease thats been handed down thru family ties, long lines of caine, into the needle into my feeble veins trying to forget. It doesn’t work.

Instead, I sleep the day away, hoping for something I don’t know quite what it is, but I am hoping. I feel the strangle hold my medications have on my body start to flex there muscles, aches arch thru my back, my hands shake gentley, it will just be a matter of minutes until I cave in, I dont want to feel. Scared to death, do you count your breath? Whats really going on, dont got much time left, the next second is now, and now is just than and I’ll never get that moment back again. Such a feeble grasp on serenity and peace, inside me there is a storm brewing, I can hear the Thunder, I can feel the Lightening. Take a few deep breaths and think how much worse I could have it, and to be thankful for what I have. I will probably attend an AA meeting this evening, hanging out with a bunch of future me’s? Was it meant to be? I dont think so, I will wipe that chalkboard clean, the eraser is in my hand, but the horned beast has a power I have a hard time competing with. One of these days, I will rip free of his grasp and walk away.

Into the evening Sunlight, back home, to that white picketed fence. Where my wife will be waiting, beaming a healing energy.

One of these Days,
High Hopes,
On the Turning Away…

I have strong feeling of Nostalgia floating thru me, and I cant put them into words, my mind is jumbled, sorry…

http://www.junkylife.com/seedless/index.php/2006/01/07/nostalgia-from-burning-leaves/

http://www.junkylife.com/seedless/index.php/2005/08/19/nyc-greenwich-village-jones-street/

I am craving warmer weather like a basehead craves that next hit, huddled in a group, eyes chasing the pipe.  I have nothing new to add a bit disappointed in the Bears Super Bowl showing, but thats life and thats Chicago for ya, always trying to play catch up.  I feel another fucking cold brewing in my chest.  I have a headache, I am running low on my meds, I am sweating than cold.  Fuck this weather, and fuck Feb. thank the lord I have nothing to do today except for just a minor appt. that should waste about an hour of my time.  I have been spending way to much time in book stores lately buying books and amassing a stack I havent even broke the cover back on one yet.  Grumble at this -negative degree weather and -20 below windchills as I have a feeling my immune system cant handle it very well and the last motherfucking thing I need it a cold.  Why the fuck am I getting hot flashes, argh…  Aggravated, moody, and I guess time to take my meds and watch TV.  Why the fuck am I up at 10am? Argh…  I predict a long boring day.

I had the craziest dream last night cant remember much but I remember waking up seeing a bright white light zip across my bedroom and than I fell back asleep only to be in an intense fear for some reason…  hmm, strange.  I sweating this computer is giving me a headache, I am outta here.

Peace,

Seedless