Hey guys,
I'm sorry I haven't been writing. I am sorry that I used tattoos as a drug to inflict seemingly harmless pain on myself. It reminds and helps me to breathe. I've been on an emotional roller-coaster since I got back. Sometimes, I wish I could remember how to cry but my tear ducts have long run dry. I can't verbalize how I feel. Words and their meanings are lost on me and as far as I am concerned, that is a very sad thing.
It just looks to me that I am living each day and night by dying a little and I think that applies to every living thing on the planet which would then justify me but who am I kidding? There is no fire. I am just Ash.
I am supposed to be reborn and embrace life for what it could be. I could loosen up a little, drink a little slower, smile a little bit more, talk a little bit more and open myself up but I don't. I don't want to. I can't. I am incapable but I continue to put on my game face when I wake up each day and I pretend to be OK. Hell, I think I may have found my niche. I am a fucking liar and a complete asshole to the ones I love and I don't think I'll ever make up for it. People think that I've gotten too comfortable with living with pain and passionless but I struggle everyday. I've come to the point where I hate myself for being a coward and weak.
I am sitting beside a hole where the rest of me used to be and still is. I look up and away from the past occasionally but nothing beckons me on the other side. I am the one left behind because subconsciously I made that choice but anyway.
I'm segueing into something different now. I am enrolling myself for the Class 2 motorcyclist license once I'm done with this entry. I know you guys mean well, for those whom I have talked to. I love you guys and I know the last thing you wanna hear about me is that I got involved in some fatal accident and all that but I think I can handle it. If you guys know me, you would know me for being unconventional, unrealistic, stupid and warped and I guess that's true and would pretty much sum me up so don't bother talking me out of it. Again, choice made. Consciously this time.
Recently, I have met several interesting characters and of course, the jerk in me gravitated towards depending on them to take me out of me, even just for a second. I'm like a leech like that. I enjoyed their company immensely. It's another thing I wish I could tell them and that they would believe me. Although sometimes, they leave me with a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. One of them, V, has recently gotten hooked up and I hope she doesn't read this particular post. In fact, I don't think she does which mean I can be honest here.
I am attracted to her but then again when am I not attracted to something? I remembered I was really depressed when I knew she was attached but I am really happy for her too. I wouldn't have otherwise forgone sleep just to listen to her talk about her girlfriend. She has gotten with someone who makes her really happy and makes her do things she wouldn't normally do and makes her tolerate things/behaviors she wouldn't otherwise tolerate. She has even stopped smoking for her. The girlfriend's quite the character, I must say and I wish her, them, the very best. Now I just have to nail that Shepherd pie recipe for them. I'll keep you guys posted on that. Maybe even a picture or two.
The other one, let's call her S, is another character who does a fabulous job at confusing me and (sometimes) keeping me in the dark. Maybe it's because I really suck at reading moods and signs. Or maybe she just doesn't trust me yet. That's fine. I respect that. Trust has to be earned and built over time. I just wish in time, I'll have that opportunity to get under her skin and could truly tear down her facade.
All right, I don't know what else to talk about. Oh, I am working at E Food and Wine on Dempsey Hill. Swing by if you wanna.
Hey, perhaps at the end of the day, I just wanna crawl into bed with you.
