fresh frosty hell

everything in the wrong place...

this sort of thing never makes sense, i guess. doesn't stop the mind from trying to make sense of it. remembering things said and things done, trying to reconcile the senselessness of where we are now.

3am. a dull calm. passed out too early and now i'm up. "up" in the least positive sense of the word. dull calm is better than the desperate panic i've suffered for much of the past week and a half. stages. recovery. not looking to bounce back to life. just clawing toward that low, lonely plateau. a sense of quiet, bitter acceptance.

times, it seems, no one really understands. no one really relates. i don't want to be here. i'm not in love with the misery, familiar as it is. i want a way out. i'm not just looking for "attention".

(sign o' the times, even my managers are getting in on the "let's boost malice" parade. so strange to have these people in cali invested in my well-being.)

helps to write. even if it is something so unproductive as a fucking blog entry.

tuesday, i got up at 5am after failing to sleep for hours. it's a hell of a time to wake up. nobody is awake, east coast or west coast. television is all infomercials. you want to experience hell, try watching cnn all day. 24-hour news becomes a cycle of 3 news stories regurgitated a thousand different ways. the same commercials every 10 minutes. huge one-day sale at joseph a. banks, don't miss it.

wednesday, a small gift. all the HD channels that my brooklyn friends have been enjoying for months have finally found their way to northern manhattan. the opiate of television. ufo hunters, mythbusters, man versus food, american justice, a dozen hitler docs. anything WON'T do, but a lot of it will.

thursday. today. antyhing can happen. an infinitesimal measure of solace. i don't want the world. all i want is some peace of mind.