maybe it’s the drugs

but I feel fucked up. I’m burnt out, I know it; I should stop. But why? Nothing gets better. Sober, enflamed.. the only difference is I have less control of my motor functions and my brain squeezes out more depression juice.

The juice is always flowing though, illicit drugs or no. I’m grateful for my brain, being so awake with such an open perspective, but it’s alienating. I felt apart from the general public before first doing drugs. The thing about them is that they just make you feel more of how you already feel.. at least for me they do.

My volume simply gets turned up; I can’t ever change the song though. My track is a typical Smiths ballad about social consciousness, being self aware, living with meaning/without fantasy.

I don’t know what I want, to stop thinking so much maybe. I’m sure that at several points in my past I wished for more awareness, more wisdom; more brain power. Now that I have it, that I’m skipping toward enlightenment, I can’t handle it.

I’m not strong enough to go this road alone, to go this road knowing that every step is solidifying my spot as a social outcast. I don’t want to be great, I just want average happiness. I don’t want this creepy crawly feeling that infects every thought and emotion, that doubt that dissuades me from putting 100% effort into anything. I wish I were ignorant and believe that anything were possible, that just around the next bend is another chance to change things. But as I was told today and over the course of my entire life, “you’re just one of those people that doubts everything.”

I’m just one of those people that … story of my life. I just want to be loved but I don’t know how to get that. I want to think less but it’s natural for me, this is my brains programming. Who the heck am I to be messing with that? But I do it every day, burning it out.

I’d like to curl into a ball and cry but I don’t know what I’d be crying about, so no tears ever come. I just feel bad inside, baaaad; this horrible ripping and tearing.

I know I’d feel better once I stopped smoking but for how long? I moved and the joy gained from getting away from my mother and her pissy cat(in more ways than one) only lasted a week or so. Maybe it’s because even she, a worse mess of a human being than I, can find someone to love and vice versa. It’s easier for women but still..

And what do I say to people anyway.. ? I try to live my life in a way that reflects my idealistic beliefs, free from religion and social programming; I’m a nihilist and I feel the freedom it offers.

So I’m “free”, but everyone else is so into this human society, not into changing it. Maybe I should take some part time courses at a local college, meet some uppity college kids on a fruitless crusade to save the world. At least then I would be around like minded nutjobs.

I want to cry. I want to cut. I want to die. But all I can do is sigh. I’m nothing, barely here, barely real. All I here is drip.. drip….. drip. Depressions flooding, drip.. drip…. drip..

I feel autistic, whatever that means. High functioning in most aspects but I break down completely around other humanoids. I can’t stand being away from them but the minute anyone gets too close, system shutdown. Kinda like Lars and the Real Girl but not as extreme(maybe as extreme, I haven’t watched the movie in awhile; I’ve changed).

The things I can do without anxiety hanging overhead all leave me with an empty feeling. I’m under the belief that the things I think and write and will think and write in the future(I could never kill myself, ever) can be of some importance to people. I read back and listen to what I’ve written and sometimes I’m blown away and that hurts because I have no ambition to do anything with it. Everything I do will end up as dust in the wind because I’m a black man with no lineage. Even amongst my own people I’m villified. Rejected by my own community because I don’t walk and talk like any other ebony. I reject the ideas of race, culture, flag worship; These serve only to divide. I don’t feel black, or canadian, or like a human male; I only really feel like a capitalist pig living off the sweat of the third world while sucking the planet dry of it’s resources (aka a virus, plague, disease etc). That’s why I’m trying to change, live differently.. but..

I can’t force people to like and understand what I write, the same way I can’t force people to like and understand me. There are billions of people out there, thousands of them with personalities and mindsets similar to my own. I’m not destined to succeed or be happy but it’d be nice. I’d like to end up with Lili; we’re so good together. I’d like my writing to entertain and inform. I want people to see me but..

When I know others can see me, I cringe. There’s no god so… don’t get locked into thinking that anything is fate or destiny or forever. Everything is atoms means I always have a chance. Just gotta remind myself.. I’m just atoms; nothing is set