|
Needles(s) and Threads I speak to myself, alone in my bedroom, staring out the window at the building across the street, the darkness of its windows, through the greyness of this morning, wearing only underwear, just out of the shower, dry, but feeling fully-clothed and waterlogged: "Sometimes, I hold myself together remarkably well; sometimes, it all hangs by a thread." Mourning in the morning: I have a wonderful apartment, my own private space, nice clothes, bountiful music, delicious art, beautiful food and gorgeous drink, constant friends, unfulfilled potential, and a large, comfortable bed, in which I mostly sleep alone. Unsatisfy: That which masturbation does. Maybe it's the weather; maybe it's the drugs. Whatever it is, my therapist's name is Diaryland. Not to be confused with Disneyland. Or Dairyland. Advice to Me: Love yourself; I'm too tired to do it for you right now, and likewise, too indecisive to search for someone else to do it. Tuesday night was a bust; I smoked and began watching LAW & ORDER at 9, thinking I'd get dressed around 9:30 and go out around 10 or 10:15. Suddenly, I looked at the clock and found it was 10:30, so I gave up. I assume I must have dozed off, but I really cannot account for that hour. Mmm...This is more like it. Thank you. Feel free to write or call...You know where to find me. r Now Playing: Leonard Cohen, TEN NEW SONGS
|