The Obscure

Up to the neck in human shit.

Here I am on another painful and excruciatingly long night. I got some new medications today, maybe they'll help me out. I took them earlier and for about an hour I was as high as a kite, which was alright. Then it wore off, and I am not sleeping now, so I evidently they are not yet working to their full effect.

I've lost my resolve, again. It's a good thing it's the weekend, I guess. I'm going to spend saturday lying in bed doing nothing. That's sounds cool. Then when I have to go into work on sunday perhaps I will feel a little less like killing myself or others.
I'm growing increasingly paranoid, lately. I'm finding myself practicing, so that I can pull a knife out from next to my bed and attack someone with it at a moments notice. It is just my delusions, but every night I lie awake thinking about how the world is crumbling, and I am going to be woken up by some fascist with a machine-gun, and I know I'm going to have to get that knife into his guts real fast or I am screwed.
Perhaps I am a sociopath, because I have always had this slight feeling of invincibility. People may die all around me, I can see pain and horrible things happen to everyone I know, and I will be deeply affected by these things, it will make me cry, it will break my heart; but I am the main character in my story. A bomb could go off in my house and I would jump out the window just in time and escape unscathed. Perhaps that is the way that all people unaccustomed to an actual life of violence feel.
And yet, at the same time, there is that feeling of how I want to take my own life.

Some of the pills my doctor gave me are incredibly dangerous. If I took five of them, it would pretty much be a death sentence. Luckily, if I were going to put an end to my life I would have to do it in some slightly more elegant way. A knife through the heart, or perhaps I would wrap myself in a tarp, pay some guy in some back-alley in Boston to box me up and mail me to some prominent politician, and cut my own throat while I was being shipped. Maybe I would write, "DO NOT OPEN TIL X-MAS!" on the box. That would be a pretty funny scene.
That was a long topic of discussion at work, how to kill yourself and then mail yourself to someone you didn't like. I thought it would be a good way to go, you could really ruin the maximum amount of lives that way with only one actual death. Very efficient, don't you think?

Our world is crumbling. I can't stand it, really, and not for the cliche reasons that most 18 year olds can't stand it; I don't take my feeble grasp of politics and pretend that I can have a valid opinion on the goings on of a society that has been running strong for two hundred years. It just makes me sad that our capitalism has gone bad. You know, that horrible, materialistic thing that most people hate? Yeah, that. It's not even that anymore, now it has grown twisted and rotten, there is too much politics and too many opinions about politics. There are too many rules and too many people trying to instate new rules to fix the problems the old ones made.
No, I don't want to stick it to the man. I'm just sick of being a poor, lonely, diseased boy who can barely afford the minimal co-pays he has to pay for his prescriptions.

We are a medicated nation, my friends. And fifty percent of our great nations medications are running through my bloodstream as we speak. Call me an addict, call me what you will. I've come to terms with the fact that no one in the world can understand the life of another person, and thus, no one in the world can understand my life, and what I go through. I could no more blame you for calling me an addict than I could claim to know exactly how you'd think and act in every situation.
I think I may be an addict, though. Not addicted to one thing, necessarily. But as my great and wise cousin Dan once said to me, "You are a pill-driven man."
And that's true. But let's look at this objectively, if I lived a hundred years ago, I'd be a booze driven man. For people like me, there is always something they need to rely on. I discovered at a young age that relying on another person is a bad idea, so here I am, sucking down pills like if I take enough I'll win a prize, because it is all I know how to do, and it is the only thing that quiets the demons that beset me at all times. The demons that I hide from all of you, except when I am writing on this disgusting website. Everyone needs to bare their soul a little. This is my way of doing that, I suppose. And if my posts are poorly written and unintelligible, then you folks can just assume that my brain was scrambled when I wrote it. It usually is. Who the fuck cares anyway? Nobody reads this thing, and I gave up on being respectable a long, long time ago.

I love you all. That's a strange feeling. It's true though, I don't understand what love is, but as far as I can tell, I am deeply in love with everyone I know.
I guess I'm not a sociopath.

And now this...

(Sitting On) The Dock Of The Bay - Otis Redding

Sittin' in the morning sun
I'll be sittin' when the evening comes
Watching the ships roll in
Then I watch 'em roll away again, yeah
I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay
Watching the tide roll away
Ooh, I'm just sittin' on the dock of the bay, wastin' time

I left my home in Georgia
Headed for the Frisco bay
'Cos I've had nothing to live for
And look like nothing's gonna come my way
So I'm just gonna sit on the dock of the bay
Watching the tide roll away
Ooh, I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay, wastin' time

Look like nothing's gonna change
Everything still remains the same
I can't do what ten people tell me to do
So I guess I'll remain the same, listen

Sittin' here resting my bones
And this loneliness won't leave me alone, listen
2000 miles I've roamed
Just to make this dock my home
Now I'm just gonna sit at the dock of the bay
Watching the tide roll away
Ooh wee, I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay, wastin' time.