all my pets are dead... where'd the paw prints come from?

            its blank how it is to look out a window for an hour.  there’s stuff goin on but blank.

and how could someone understand that?  it’s vapid, it’s vague, it doesn’t make sense.

you cant be blamed for doing things wrong when the person who’s blaming you sets you up for failure.  People set themselves up for failure and so all they can do is blame themselves.  Fallin into some vivid, violent, still life of apathy works.  It’s scary as hell when your visual senses are heightened around you, maybe you can also smell real well the night that came in with you through the door.  objects and the way things move without movement, when you take in the actual placement of things being reality.  An empty pack of cigarettes on the night stand, a silver cross pendant broken in half hangin off a lamp shade,  red aerosol can of  antiseptic spray, bag on the floor, markers, a space heater that click when it’s not turned on, i’m not turned on, a guitar, a typewriter from 1935, clothes.  Everything mundane is sharp as a razor now and as sterile.  just makes me think of cold white bathroom tiles.  I guess because I relate sterile and cold.  You could relate doctors’ offices to both.  So when nothin with a sharp edge seems piercing enough, when it makes your stomach move weird for a split second,  you wonder, at least I wonder, how it’d be to see a razor or broken glass.  So I go and break open a disposable razor and hold it in my hand for a couple minutes.

       I want someone to go to who will always be honest and good to me.  Something that makes me feel good no matter what, and when that constantly holds itself from you no matter what the reason whether based on double standards or you’re the one who needs to realize some rotten perception of what’s real...besides all of that, wouldn’t you move on.  Logic has no place in nature, i guess it’s just instinct, anyone basing life off of logic seem to be more dishonest and hurt creation than most.   How can anyone ever expect that anyone can give them that?  Is it because it seems so close sometimes if it wasn’t for say one or two things or aspects of behavior or aspects of a relationship.  What makes me weary of human existence is everyone always justifies what they do in there head to much.  I really never felt I had to because I truly never thought I did anything wrong in the way of affecting another person or functioning within dishonesty.... i have not had to be dishonest ever unless it’s just to circumvent petty situations, drama that has no part in the whole scheme of things if anything should be taken seriously at all.  In the process of growing up all I’d have is myself to rely on, especially if my basis is past experience.  Maybe that’s my justification for thinkin nothin I do is ever wrong?
          
         People are happy with what they think makes them happy, until they get bored with it and decide they want something new, this stunts someone from ever experiencing real happiness or at least recognizing it if they ever do.  Well life’s not a movie and the people who watch you will probably get annoyed and put somethin else in after a while. How could I expect that when I’m loyal to my, i guess, tempestuous pursuit I dunno,  of life or death?  mundane words seem so vivid, so tomorrow it’ll all just sound like shattered glass.  You can’t talk to me and have amazing and in depth conversations where we’re both like “holy shit”, though because you're not afraid to offend other people, through that draws you closer to other people who really seem to understand I guess... but I found out it’s mostly all fake.  Unless .... well.... well, you can't make me talk putting me on the spot and when someone naturally wants to talk and express things you cant interrupt and get mad making boundaries on what certain people can or can't say because of who you make them up in your mind to be.  Unless... Well....

       There’s alot of snow outside.  The east coast got really slammed.  I’m annoyed I got all my records stolen.  I’d could listen to Neil Young’s heart of gold but I don’t have any Neil Young on my computer.  My mom made me coffee today.  She has this weird habit of lacing the coffee she always makes with nutmeg or cinnamon and I hate it.  Today she didn’t do that with the coffee and served it to me while staring out the bay window in the living room.  It felt blank.  I feel blank so much, I think it has to be a phase because it’s not something I’m used too.  When I was sixteen I was skateboarding with my pack back than.  The four of us, we got kicked out of the school’s yard for skateboarding, it was prohibited.  The police officer was a dick.  After back talking under our breath we trailed each other out to the back streets, we were thirsty and we were on our way to Subway for drinks.  We cut in back of a local bank office and at the end of the parking lot was this steep brilliant hill.  It stretched down shooting through an intersection of a dirt road.  We raced down it earlier that day, except I went slow the first time.  My friend Chris, Chris says, “ This time don’t go so slow Jady, you fuckin pussy!”  I defended myself against my three friends explaining how I didn’t want to get hit by a car.  Again, Chris remarked, “ Cars have brakes.”

We raced.  The four of us.  I was winning.

I got to the intersection first, I looked to my left, I woke up between two tires of a red pickup truck.  I got up and walked on my leg which I heard crunching as it drug behind me.  I had a “mild” concussion and the fibula and tibia of my leg were shattered.  The policeman who kicked us out of the school came and confiscated our skateboards.  Chris felt bad.  Matt brought me magazines in the hospital.  Ever since than I’ve gone blank for no reason for maybe thirty seconds at a time.  I was told I’d walk with a limp for the rest of my life.  I walk fine.  So I’ve always gone blank for no reason, I forget what I’m talking about or forget someone’s name.  The policeman who was mean to me and my friend’s that day was killed about three years later in the line of duty, i think he was hit by a motorcycle, it was on the news.  I don’t know what happened to the kids I used to be friends with, one of them is married I think.  But anyway, this has to be a phase because now I’m going blank all the time.  I’m staring out windows while drinking coffee to much.  

      I’ll listen to The Smith’s meat is murder album instead.  There are certain things that make me comfortable and not so afraid of myself.  The Smiths being one, they never make me sad when I listen to them.  I drew a picture of a woman giving birth to a baby and the baby is coming out and stabbing her with a knife.  Stupid... i’m goin into the window for a cigarette instead of just starin at it.  It’s morning and I can see things out of it now, I see white, a tree covered in white,  the sky is so many different similar shades that it doesn’t matter, right?  It shouldn’t be thought about, right?  I want to just unload a bunch of shit here.  I don’t feel well at all.  Never do I really give myself so much credit as to think a collective of minds, one mind, that would seek mine out to show me empathy, sympathy.... I don’t know, understanding?  I feel like I have somethin I’d wanna say besides my coffee has gone cold, it’s been sitting here since yesterday.  but I don’t really.  My mind is lost.  I’m boring.  There is nothing to find out about me.  No key.   Not lovable.  I’m not interesting.  And noone will really miss me when I die.