attorney at guilt

i dont really remember writing the last post. i saw some things that changed me as a person tonight. literal things and abstract thoughts that were really just an abbhoration of things. i wish i had more to say, and since i have a lot i want to say, i wish i could find some means of conveyance to relate to the rest of the world, the part whose best friend isnt a pen and a pad. i guess this is my silent confessional turned public. its almost masturbatory... a public exhibition of privacy. maybe that makes me an exhibitionist.. maybe it makes you all sick fucks for reading this and figuratively watch me masturbate in torment. this whole process REALLY is masturbatory, the more i reflect on it. i guess its some sort of exonerance of toxins. but instead of toxins, im unscrewing the cap on a jar full of demons, and letting them squeak out, one by one. even right now, i dont know why im writing. all i know this that when words expunge into actual existence, i am put at ease. all that is wrong in the world is immediately morphed into right. this website is the closet for all of my skeletons. they resurface from the ground and it is my job to lock them away again, until they feel like gnawing at my mind some more. the gnawing aches. it makes my head feel like the thin outer shell of a maraca. right now, it is 2:02am. i am sitting here, in an apartment in vacaville, california in a humble green recliner. the chair isnt reclined backwards with its leg stand jutted out at a jaunty angle. Its upright, as if its too scared to break some force of nonexistant tension that the chair creates for itself. i dont belong in this humble chair. my thoughts are not humble.. they are not pure. my thoughts arent a quiet faded green, theyre a hot fiery orange. so why am i sitting here? jakes passed out on the futon. hes not drunk. i am very drunk. i have been drinking steadily since before jazz ensemble. im wearing clothes that dont suit me and talking to people that dont matter to me. i simply am. you have to fill in the blanks on the rest of me, but thats how i look at myself. i dont feel myself drifting off into haunting dreams and cold sweat anytime soon on this night. its chilly... theres a cool fan blowing on full blast on the windowbox. a remnant habit of the summer... the dial will be neglected until probably november. everything is perfect in this apartment in its moment right now. outside, the world is a chaotic sanctuary for ignorant hollow hope. i havent shaved in two days. i didnt shower today.. i woke up too late. i ran out of acne medication. basically, what im saying... is that theres no point in caring about appearance because the world isnt a place stock full of depth, and im not good looking anyways so this just gives me more reason to not care. i have a job interview at macys on thursday. i wish i could let just one person know me... but the truth is, when i start to let that happen, i get carried away and tell too much too quick. and i catch myself for it. and i realize that im not gettin the same in return. and i put two and two together and i mentally bail on the situation, even though i know i shouldnt. 2:19 am now. im thirsty again. every girl that ive ever thought worthy of dating/liking/loving/marrying, i really wish id never met. its just more evidence of the perfection i will never achieve and evidence of the mediocrity that total pieces of shit possess as material objects. i will make somebody happy someday... but it probably ideally wont be who i want it to be. im so fed up right now, that honestly all i want is a really smart really cool butt ugly girl. at least she can level with me. i guess its my fault for being so complex and weird. curious. girls are the bane of my existance. i think about them too much and theyre never any good to me, in turn causing me to be no good to anybody or anything. i am a selfish, selfish individual... the relentless alchohol indulgence speaks of this on its own. jake is snoring on the couch. i hate every good looking male everywhere. i hate what they possess in other people and willingly choose to throw away, even though i would give anything to have an inkling of what lies in their hands. i gotta get off this girl subject, its killing me. torments. plagues. trials. i speak softly. maybe thats my difference. maybe i can only level with adults, even though i am an irresponsible adult in myself. i need money, a dog, a car, a computer, and an apartment. so i can have enough distractions to never think about anybody. you all make me sick.. but god dammit... there are a few of you i just want to know as PEOPLE.. not as facades. take your mask off when you talk to me, my xray vision is getting tired of being used.