#ego idem

[elusivelytender]

i wrote this shit in my journal when i was blackout drunk in the middle of the afternoon yesterday. i don’t remember writing it at all and it took me a solid half-hour to read a couple of the words cause my handwriting was so bad. i also lost a brand new pack of cigarettes. no idea what happened to them. and then i passed out for a while, was sick all night, and then literally did not sleep a wink! lovin life.

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it’s totally normal to never be sober you don’t have to think about your life. that’s what it means to be an artist? right? to be constantly in pain? maybe i’m just too used to pain so i don’t feel it anymore. it’s totally normal to drink 200ml of tequila and sit around at the park and not think about anything. i’m definitely not an alcoholic. ha ha ha. i’m totally in control of my life and habits. i say to myself. god i wish someone would come along and realize what a mess i am - but if someone did, i’d have to give up control, and i can’t do that. i can’t be sober, but i can’t let anyone help me. i can’t let anyone in. i’d like to really hurt myself. i wish i could move on to another world where i am revered. i want to have power and i don’t want to be honest anymore. i just want people to be mystified and impressed. what is the point of me? unless i am beautiful? i could have a grand romance - if i tried - but i am so alien to these plebeians - i am too good for them - do not ever mistake that - i am too good for them - they can only wish to be close enough to me to really experience what it’s like to be with me. i am a gift to those who wish to truly experience me - the pathetic, desperate creatures. no one wants anything to do with me. one day, could you be the savior? oh, how i wish i could be like them. god, everything feels like an artifice. i want to hurt. i want someone else to hurt me. i want to be free of my flesh. i want to be free of all these pretensions. oh god. i don’t even know how long i’ve been here but it doesn’t matter. i will know what i meant later -

[elusivelytender]

sorry is always the first word that makes it out of my mouth

[elusivelytender]

i want to be pure.

[elusivelytender]

i just need to be alone. i don’t want to be understood by anyone. i want to be totally alienated.

[elusivelytender]

i want to go somewhere far away from everything i know and be alone. and just exist. and breathe. and think. be, and do, nothing.

i want only to think of grand things. i want to fill my mind with thoughts of art and beauty and life and color and longing and love and glorious ache and tender reminiscence and soft innocent intimacy and purity and nature and poetry and all of time.

but i am trapped in an endless, tiring cycle of work and sleep and work and sleep and work and sleep and if i am thinking at all, it is about how much i despise myself. 

[elusivelytender]

i listen to so many beautiful love songs and they make my heart ache because i am incapable of experiencing such lofty emotions and finding such happiness and completeness. i do not even attempt to seek it out. my nature is that of the lone wolf and i have never once felt a romantic nor sensual pull towards another.

i want something pure, something sonnet worthy, a higher plane of existence here on this earth. something that only myself and one other understands. but i simply cannot imagine myself with anyone in such a context. i cannot even imagine myself with anyone in a totally base context. whoever would ever want to be with me?

all i want is to be alone, but i long for romantic adventure? pathetic.

[elusivelytender]

three things i need:

to take up less space to be more quiet, inside and outside peace

[elusivelytender]

i’m full of fear.