again

go to work
go to my moms house
take care of my brother
get high
go to sleep
rinse/repeat
weekend!!!!!!!!
take care of my brother
get high
go to sleep

I do other things but…. I’m sitting here willing myself to get up and go back to my moms house for the evening but I just can’t. Even if I had my own apartment again, it’s all so unsatisfying. I want.. i dunno. A woman? That doesn’t sound right but I’m sure it’s what my body wants. My mind is the problem. My body is healthy and fit.. my mind just doesn’t want. Doesn’t want anything, but the body wants it all. My biology wants what it’s programmed to want and my mind just wants non-existence. Tug of war between should i stay or go… tired, so tired. I’m just passing the time, taking care of my brother, working, seeing friends, sedating, keeping in touch, this, that and the other thing… I’m just passing time. I don’t want to do anything. Honestly, I don’t want to be anything. I don’t care. Doesn’t matter to me what I do here because I know that the next stop is non-existence, absolute finality. So why bother? I try and fail and try and succeed, but I feel nothing. I have friends and family that love me to death, but I feel nothing. Well paying job and I live in a major city with access to any product that my heart desires, but I feel nothing. I type and type and type of my derision and I start to feel something, but it’s all so fleeting. I feel a little alive typing all this, shoveling this toxic sludge out of mind, but all I think about now is the time and how I shouldn’t be at work anymore. My body beckons me to stick to schedule and be where I’m supposed to be at any given time. But my mind just don’t give a damn.

I don’t know what love is. I’ve obsessed over women but I’ve never loved anyone. I only love my brother and his cat; everyone else just seems so useless to me. Not that I’m better or anything but that I just don’t understand how to connect the way most people do. Yet, other times, it feels so easy to be human. I feel nauseous, want drugs, want death JHSJDHVBSHVBSC

i’m afraid to stop writing and acknowledge that I have to leave soon. I’m afraid of fear, afraid of people and they’re looking eyes. I act like a mouse, barely have a voice, I try to rap and I sound like a silly emo kid. I want to be a man but I’m just a coward. I want to be a man and grow up but I’m afraid. I just wanna tell someone I love them and mean it. The first time I had an orgasm, I thought, “that’s it?” First time sex was better but still, not satisfied; need more, need to combine spirits with someone, I need connection. I need somebody to need me and me to need them. But I don’t need anything because I don’t desire anything because I’ve failed a few times at acquiring things that I just don’t want to try anymore. I’m a wuss; I should really give this life thing a fair shake.

I haven’t been trying at all, so lazy. I should try but I’m so afraid of being seen, of having my voice heard. What is that? Why do I tremble so when my name is called? Don’t blame mother; it doesn’t help to dwell on the past. SHe fucked me over some but it’s the past so fuck it and fuck her.

Can’t stop writing or I’ll have to go home and continue my series of events. Can’t stop writing or I’ll have to think about my life, brain won’t stop with the flashbacks. It’s all so out of control and yet within my power, or is control just an illusion brought on by insanity?

Can’t stop writing, don’t wanna be so I can’t stop writing. I admire Lil B and the basedworld. He’s so positive; I wish I could be that way instead of feeding off the negative. Why don’t I try harder? Why can’t I stop being afraidf? Why can’t I stop shaking?

Keep writing Huggins, don’t stop or you’ll have to go to that dingy apartment. Keep going, all night if you have to.

I have to do something, something something something. Something needs to change because I can’t continue like this. I can, obviously, but I don’t want to. I want to change but I have to work at it and I hate work but isn’t it worth it in the end? But I don’t know what I want anymore, I pushed it all out of my head because I didn’t think I deserved anything.

Stop writing. That’s enough for now