August 6, 2010

Usually, at the beginning of a post, I make some mundane reference to how long it's been since I last posted. Then, I promise to start posting more often.

Well this time, I've decided not to do that. Instead, as you can see I simply made a reference TO making a reference.

I'm sorry. I'm trying to make myself smile here, too. I feel your pain, it's not working for me either.

Rather than be specific about what's going on in my life right now, I just want to make an observation. It has been a long, long time since I woke up happy. And that's some serious shit. Depression is a motherfucker. I know I have so much to be grateful for. But I also know that the emotion of happiness is one that I haven't enjoyed, beyond getting fucked up, in months.

Alone, in my head, with my thoughts. And alone in general. It does things to me, things that you cannot see, things that only I know about, because they happen inside my head. I literally can't stand looking in the mirror, because I'm so tired of that reflection being my only friend. I'm struggling to make new friends. I'm also watching in terror as old friends either disappear, or attempt to fuck me over. I'm sitting in a corner, crying and helpless, as love moves further and further away. Loneliness, being poor, and boredom. Those are the things I look forward to each day. Son of a bitch. I can't stand it. Not too long ago, I asked my dad for advice. He says, in words, "Quit crying like a little bitch." I said, "Now I know what NOT to say when someone is down."

My little sister is 17.

And then I clock back in at work. Do my job. Try to smile. Stress about how tight my check is gonna be, and the one after, and the one after that. Fiddle around on my phone, try to mess around on Facebook, looking at that horribly cracked screen. My phone's having issues now, and is going to completely go to shit at any time now. However, it is the only phone I have, and I'm too broke to afford a jew one. Oops.

Still at work. Listen to bullshit from various people . . . . some are supervisors, some are customers, but both are trying to use me in one way or the other. I make just enough to live. Never enough to enjoy, or thrive. And then I go home, and try to sell another beat (so far, lots of beats made, no money) and maybe hit my homeboy to see if he wants to kick it. No? He's too fucked up to answer his phone, probably. Damn.

Food. Or rather, whatever I have that appears edible. And then, the internet. I'm always studying something, researching something, or else annoying everyone with "Check out my beats at www.soundclick.com/smoketheoriginal".

I avoid sleep. Or does it avoid me? Both. I crave and crave sleep, and yet, I'm afraid to go to sleep because then it brings on another day of going silently mad. As if that's not enough, I'm a chronic insomniac anyway, so sleep is running away from me even when I try to hold out my hand.

And then the sun comes up on me again . . . . . . . Like I said, I know I have plenty to be thankful for.