stoli, needles

8:23pm. why am i so totally obsessed with you? Not like that or anything. But seriously, you stay really active in my imagination. It kinda makes me feel crazy. Maybe i just need to write a novel about you. I dunno j.

8:38pm. im sitting in a dyke bar by myself. i dream about cola every night, im still there. strange.

8:51pm. lets trade. U can become selfobsessed and i can love living in cola. Wait, thats the way it is. Syke. I dont love cola. Just kidding. im reading stevenson for class and drinkin alone listnin to jay reatard and thinking about u every 15 mintues. Is this normal 4 u to always b on my mind and stuff. What am i willie nelson? Have fun at the bar.

10:02pm. the bar sukt im going home wiht stoli, otherwise alone.

11:16pm. stoli and strawberry. my hair is stringy in the window reflection. i invent intimacy in my dreams, my dreams are the closest i come to not being alone. you are that summer feeling.

11:49pm. he opened w a version of that in charlotte id never heard b4. Ur message made me cry 4 a minute. I guess im kinda drunk. I wish we could all live in some lush fantasy with a real god and real love and no more offices. down down. Gonna die for my fantasies.

12:12am. xanax abuse just put needle pricks in my arm to make blood. saw two men in the alley smoking something that made them feel goood they looked happy, maybe they are.

7:07am. maybe they were happy. Smoking cocaine makes me sad. Wasted money on a ball and a half last week. Xanax is better-cheaper and it wont kill u as easily. Fuck drugs and they withdraw and shoot cum at you. Do u know that baraka poem that starts with the same line, just sub poems for for drugs. When u tell me about cutting yourself it makes me wanna hold u and tell u lies like itll be ok. Its never gonna b ok and this is one reason i suck at love in any form. My parents made me wanna b jesus but i ended up like a poorly written kafkan christ-invert character. Then i remember early death and hospitals and death without money for hospitals-the murkiest corners of faulkner and mccarthy and df wallace and i prematurely shroud the hunger artist's display cage. This is one way i alays fail at life and loves. And im probably wrong about it. Wrap your wounds in whatever cloth-its all made in sweatshops in miller's china.

9:48am. my stomach hurts. my body hurts. i want to live in a place without body parts.