I feel like I dont have quite enough Skee-Ball tickets for the life I want... So I pick from the crappier prize buckets... That the people and scenes I love being a part of are just out of my reach.... So its isolation and Star Market pre-made elderly meals to fill the void. My days are so up and down at this point I should just have a moonwalk built underneath me... When life clicks I feel like a creative type in perfect harmony with the world... I see the synchronicity of life, and flow with it so beautifully it lines up with my dreams like magic.... Even in Boston. And when it doesnt I question everything again. I hate the person starring back at me in the mirror in the morning, and I wonder if Im just part of some bigger fail video project that Boston has been working on for years... I wear my emotions on my sleeve, and people who think they know me one day see a complete stranger the next... Some days I want a key to the city... Other days Im crying to go back to some country house to hide for the rest of my time so I dont infect others with my mental illness. I hope that whatever happens people can understand I did the best I could with the deck I got. I know Im not perfect... but I fought to get this far.... Considering I absolutely hate the face I see in the mirror each morning.... And the voices in my head screaming (YOU CAN NEVER FIX THOSE BROKEN BRIDGES. IT WILL NEVER BE LIKE THAT AGAIN)..... I just dont bounce back like I use to. I had a dream last night I was hanging with JFK. We were in the back of a convertible, and found ourselves both hating our heads.... Mine because it was bald and I dress it up with silly hats.... and his because it was bleeding like crazy... I wasnt freaked out by it... And he turned to me and said with a big grin It gets better Robert...
Posted on: Sun, 04 May 2014 13:00:57 +0000
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