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I can get my shit together, i can become more stable, regulated, etc but what kind of life even is this? The same kind i did everything to avoid? Do the alternative subcultures do nothing but reproduce the worst aspects of the mainstream culture i wanted to abandon? Can i just not deal with my actions having consequences? There was a reason i lashed out at everyone, i might as well accept they were never really my friends. The brief experiences of real community really are like taking molly, it's amazing at first but then you're ability to enjoy anything is fucked.

Maybe this is all just whining abt my impotence, my inhibitions and fear of taking real risks. But the alienation is truth in itself and i still feel like what made me desire this community has been lost

#terrible communities #hemorrhages

Concussive Happiness (and the other hemorrhages, “friends”)

A group of friends, A gathering, Overlapped And away, Persists Where all know all With, “You think you know me?” In the all too honest background.

An answer to the above – Our assumed empathy exists, When truthfully It truthfully eludes - “You think I know you?”

“I” Or rather the “We” in the “here” And “now” - A lesser form, And not our truest, Hides the “real” and deep within.

Each has a pain, Relatively at least And perhaps our only concrete notion Of who the “other” is. A non-biological truth Founded upon A shared organic ancestry Where The skeletons in the closet Translate as - Lacks of ambition, Ambiguous futures (at best), Swept away addictions And tears in the night, Torture.

We shed our daily frown, For a fake smile, A facsimile And play for the pains we do not share. It’s a place Where the hidden words, The bad words, The blasphemous words Slip - “Help me!” And just as quickly Retract - “Never mind.”

We hide it deep And hide it well, Because it’s when it’s Shared That we become what we try to Avoid - Attached And in fear of losing Each other.

Thus remains – The perversion of perception. As we hold to this State of confused, Or concussive, Happiness. And only later will we all cry, As we’ve all gone home And alone.

- L.C.