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There Aint No Justice 116
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| There Ain't No Justice |
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| #116 |
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- Going Crazy in the Suburbs 11: -
"I'll Never Find Your Eden"
by Hairy
listen,
listen to me:
i am a fool.
i write poetry in the dark,
listen to depressing music,
struggle with self-loathing.
i drink too much vodka,
try to teach myself to smoke.
i grow my fingernails,
study the cracks in my hands for hours,
watch my future slip away.
i am a fool,
completely.
i am persecuted for my beliefs,
for being strong enough
to be an individual.
i try to outrun
time.
i spend my nights alone,
stare at the same four walls,
sleep without the comfort of dreams.
i watch compassion
walk away.
i cry out for someone,
anyone,
anything.
a touch,
a kiss.
meaningless gestures,
forgotten by the wind -
a treasure to me.
look at me, look at me:
i am a fool.
a sad, drunk, lonely fool.
raised on barbed wire and
boot heals.
are my tears
as salty as yours?
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got your letter today.
i'm sitting here over greasy food and watered down soda, reading it.
yes, my life is all fucked up. i've got no idea what's going on, or what
options there are. above anything else i'm terribly lonely & depressed. the
depression is average, i accept that. the loneliness just makes it worse.
i think i mentioned this already in that other letter i haven't sent, that
i've chased everyone out of my life again..
the more you think about being alone, the lonelier you seem to feel. the bed
seems to grow larger and larger every night - it's like sleeping in the middle
of a field.
being all swirly and "in love" is as much a drug as anything else is, i guess.
i'd much prefer that feeling, but the vodka is easier to find.
i didn't realize mr. murphy was in town. ah well.
thrill kill kult / lords of acid should be interesting. i don't really plan on
going, but if i sink low enough inside of myself i probably will, anyway.
i should get a check for $350 tomorrow. i love the government. if i had any
courage or motivation, i'd take the money and disappear for a few weeks - just
drive off west, somewhere - anywhere. "anywhere out of the world." i'll be
able to talk myself out of it, though, by reminding myself how the car's
brakes don't work, etc.. i'm sure i can think of other excuses if i actually
get close to doing anything.
look, dear, buy some envelopes. 88 for 100. *i* even went and bought
envelopes, and i'm poor.
i wish the phone would ring.
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surrounded by
emotionless faces
heartless chests
dead impossibility
i just want to be held
just some compassion
in this dark
some kind of humanity
we both know
it never happens
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i thought i had something to say, but i guess i was wrong..
hello, it's the morning (2pm). i'm sitting here drinking healthy liquids and
eating advil, to make my body happier about the poisons i poured into it last
night..
two days ago, when i was completely secure in my isolation, jill came by for a
visit. how nice. she has such perfect timing.. she said something about not
knowing whether or not we were "mad" at each other. she promptly fell asleep
on my bed, and at very least i had something warm to hold onto for a night.
it really didn't matter that it was her or anyone else. when you're starving
to death, you'll take anything they give you..
i got $500 in the mail yesterday from the state. that never really used to
seem like much when i made $300 a week, but lately it seems like a fortune.
the walls are the big problem, you know? the walls.. i've been sitting here in
this room for forty-five days now, and each day the walls seem to squeeze in
on you.. they take whatever feelings you have, and they compress them into
something a thousand times more concentrated, more disturbing.
i've got to get out of this house.
shit, it's saturday. i've got a hangover and it's saturday - again.
time is behaving very strangely lately. when you're sitting there thinking
about it, it seems to creep along at a snail's pace.. but you close your eyes
and go to sleep, and suddenly it's four days later. you see, you see what i
mean? it's the 12th. yesterday was the 9th. the day before that was the 4th..
have a pretty day, give chet my love. (?)
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i bought envelopes, but i don't even have paper to print this on.
i went to the batcave last night, finally. it was horrible. to begin with, i
was still half hungover from the night before. i got there and had one drink,
felt sick all night. lots of new faces, lots of people i hadn't seen - all of
which were completely uninterested in the depressed guy in the corner. and to
make the night complete, nancy & tom showed up. oh, the joy. oh, the wondrous
wondrous joy.
she tried to talk to me once or twice. i don't really remember what she said.
it's just as well, i don't think i want to know. i remember pursing my lips
at her and waving her away.
some jerk who thought he was a part of "the misfits" was there. what an ugly
hairstyle.
i left early and got into some more acceptable attire. i wandered around for
awhile, marveling at the city. i felt like shit, i looked like shit, and i
belonged there. two little puerto rican women were having a fist fight around
39th street - - that was amusing for awhile. some prostitute with breasts the
size of cantaloupes was wandering around 8th avenue. everyone stood around
with their mouths open staring at her. she'd bend over and tease them.
boredom & misery somehow fit together.
i want to get my hand repierced, but i don't think mark (the piercer) would
approve of redoing it before it's had time to heal. it's been about three
months, i guess. i know i should wait six like the rest of the world, but i
don't really feel like it. nursing my hand back to health would give me
something to do. besides - - it'd probably heal better now, considering i
don't do anything but type & read.
i wish i had the other summer over again, that day i came to visit you. i
don't care about changing anything, it'd just be nice to experience it again.
you're one of the most realistic people i know, and it's somehow very special,
very rare.
the publishing shit never worked out, but that was to be expected. my ambition
for that died as soon as i went to sleep that morning. not that it matters,
anyway.
jim is so burnt out on reality, it scares me. he's worse off than i am. well,
in certain ways, i guess. he can actually get decent jobs if he wanted, so
he's one up. but he's broken, broken like the rest of us. if i end up moving
in with him, we're going to sit around and drink ourselves to death. well - -
shit, it's better than rectal cancer, i guess. i've probably got no choice,
anyway. relocating to a retirement village in florida doesn't sound like much
fun, so i have to go somewhere.
maybe i'll join the fucking army.
anyway: i came home from the batcave after sleeping the alcohol off in some
motel parking lot. i went back to sleep, woke up with a fever, sweating to
death. so i'm sitting here now, only slightly better, with makeup still
smeared all over my eyes. i'm getting all spacey and it feels like the monitor
is ninety feet away.
that jessica girl didn't work out, but it doesn't make a difference.
the "other" jill, the one from the limelight & columbia college, finally
answered some of my mail. she's been trying to develop a life outside of her
computer - - good for her. she told me all about some party she was at, where
she sat around with tom and his girlfriend, marta. i was so appalled at the
smallness of the world, this tiny box we are all contained in. i quoted a line
from barfly to her to explain tom: "he symbolizes everything that disgusts
me."
i sit around and stare at all these compact discs i never listen to. i paid,
maybe, $12 for each of them. i sit here and think about how many meals i can
have with $12..
jill ("the" jill) called to tell my machine that flash gorgeous (the guy who
used to work the door at the batcave, worked at the limelight occasionally,
etc) died of liver cancer. other than that, i haven't spoken to her. it's all
the same, really.
i went and bought henry miller. if there isn't enough drunken whoring in
there, i'm going to come throw the damn thing at you. $11 is a lot of tacos,
baby.
well, anyway.
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got your letter, along with the car insurance bill. there's no way out..
this is my last sheet of paper, i hope i can think of something good to say.
i got another message from "the other" jill. it seems that tom & nancy are
dragging my name through the muck. i guess i shouldn't be surprised,
considering who it's coming from, but it still bothers me. it bothers me to
some horrible distant extreme. i don't feel like i'll ever go out again.
i can't stand these fucking immature high school-mentality children. i just
can't stand it. i want to strangle the lot of them. you'd think they'd have
something better to do..
your quote is sort of funny, "talking about michealangelo." i'm pretty sure
the sister's quote is a little different, "talking about the lives they know."
hmmmmm. i probably butchered the spelling on that, but i'm too lazy to fix it.
fucking screaming neighbors.
i think jill called me last night, but i was too sick to be sure. i've been
doped up on nyquil for the past 3 or 4 days, haven't been able to eat. stomach
viruses are no fun. i accept the nausea as a big sign that says, "slow down,
buddy" when i've had too much to drink, but dealing with it for 4 days for no
reason is sort of trying.. maybe i should check the machine, i wonder what she
wanted.
teli's back from 8 weeks of spanish schooling in vermont. he failed half his
classes. it was a large laughing waste of $5000.
let me know when you start your dancing career. some questions beg to be
answered..
another dry, shitty letter.
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strange, well-traveled people
associations with no purpose
confusing hopelessness
with some kind of wisdom
words writhe in the dark
thoughts and feelings and
other things
angels litter the floor
i am a dog -
i tell them this
honesty for artistry
hideousness for beauty
eyes that refuse to work
unblinking
unfearing
unnerving me
people in a mysterious place
happiness and magic
i stare in awe
i dream
some things are impossible
reality always gets the last laugh:
i'll never find your eden
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disjointed smiles
whispered tears
poison and
misery and
madness and
isolation
struggling to make reality meet me half way
nothing works
coughs in the dark
sorrow set to music
fingers plucking heart strings
plucking melodies from darkness
from the bloat
from the detachment
shunned
forgotten
self-loathed
children smile in dreams long gone
dreams of history past
a fairy tale hallucination
my life is a series of weaknesses
a series of
hangover induced poems
watch the clock tick
imagine his hips working
feel her slipping away into disgust
there is no rescue
there is no escape
there is no salvation
feeding holes within myself
holes never filled
drowned in alcohol and tears
voids unfilled,
just the same - -
it's all the same
"listen, i'm going to go.."
"you do that, you're good at that."
we cry as we kiss
if we could care at all
shivering in the dark
shivering in disintegration
you can have all that's left
all there ever was
if you could just show me joy
show me happiness
take me away
into your eden
your salvation
cradled arms
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i still haven't got any paper to print this on. i'll have to scrounge.
i've known some girl named "heather" for some time now, a year or so. she read
some things i had written some time ago, and we started talking. i left tapes
of decent music in her driveway a few times out of boredom, and little words
spelled out with sugarcubes. she ran away to college, and i never heard from
her again. ah well.
jim was here about a week ago, and we were both working on a bottle of vodka.
the phone rang, and it was heather. she was back from college for two weeks,
and wanted to see me. jim & i drove up there, swerving and drinking the entire
way. we sat in her driveway and jim talked to her for awhile, i just avoided
her. we drove off into the dark looking for entertainment, but all we managed
to do is run out of alcohol. we drove back to my house and continued to drink,
jim trying to convince her to have a sip or two..
after awhile, i had too much to drink. went and laid on the bed.. jim sat &
geeked out on the computer. next thing i know, she's lying next to me. i start
to stroke her hair, touch her face. she's on top of me, sticking her tongue
down my throat. jim comes over and grins for what seems like hours.. starts to
fondle her as she kisses me..
teli arrives with a plethora of alcohol. jim finds entertainment in a new
bottle. she continues to work.
teli leaves. jim leaves, goes to beth's house for marijuana.
heather starts removing clothing. i'm still drunk - i don't know what to
think; i can't think. my fingers somehow find their way inside of her..
i drive her home in the morning, still drunk. we kiss good byes, i drive home
in some disillusionment.
since then, i've seen her most every day. she turns out to be some fabulously
well-to-do literature major. she makes me uncomfortable with my poorness. i
keep questioning what she's trying to do, what she's trying to accomplish with
me. she's mistaking my misery with some kind of artistry, i guess.. keeps
telling me i'm a writer. yeah, yeah, yeah..
her father owns a bank, apparently. she was born in germany, and traveled all
over the world as a child. never staying in any place for more than six
months.. italy, switzerland.. lovely european accent.. wardrobe could buy me
several automobiles..
in any event: she goes back to college in a few days, and then this finishes -
whatever it is.
other exciting news:
a few days after this drunken encounter, teli got locked out of his house. i
had to entertain him all day until someone could let him back in. we ended up
going to some party, where this guy named eric wanted to have sex with me. he
had been planning it for some time. he's a little 16 year old albino.
whatever: we went. i sat in the car and drank a bit, to fortify myself against
the crowds of people. i can't stand parties, i don't know why we were there..
as we walked through the parking lots (he lived in a condo development), i was
accosted by jocks, yelling "faggot" out of their pretty white sports car.. i
took a few more steps towards the door, "if these are the kind of people
outside, why on earth am i going inside?" we turned around and left.
we ended up going to a pool hall, playing for an hour or so. we were alright
to begin with, but trips to the bathroom to hit off on the vodka soon impaired
our skills. teli decided he was horny. "good for you," i told him. "let's call
jill," he said, "we can take her back to your place and have sex with her."
"you call jill, and you do what you want, i don't want any part of it."
i ended up driving him to her house, it was right around the corner. he took
several slugs to assure himself that he really was horny, then went inside. i
sat in the car and drank..
forty-five minutes or so went by, and he came back out. jill was waiting for
some friend of hers, and she couldn't go anywhere yet. i told him i was sick
of sitting there, i wanted to go home. he went back inside, they both came
out. i shifted my eyes around - i avoided her. she touched my hand, i took a
sip. they went back in the house..
i sat around for an hour or so at my house, more shots & spiraling state of
mind. i called to find out what the hell he was doing. he was, apparently,
throwing up all over her, her house, her friend who had finally arrived.. i
talked to her for a minute. i told her the truth - teli wanted to fuck her, i
didn't want any part of it. she got offended and started yelling at me, she
wasn't a whore, this and that. i don't blame her, really, but i just drove the
car.. "i'm miserable, leave me alone, just leave me alone, you don't know
anything about it.. you wouldn't understand." i hung up the phone, took it off
the hook..
later that morning, i drove up to see heather. she didn't know what was going
on. i just put my head in her lap, let her run her fingers through my hair..
drove home, had more to drink, went to sleep.
these have been the past few days. what fun, what joy, what misadventure.
jim's finally looking for a house - - too bad i'm dirt poor. i can't afford a
deposit & i can barely make the rent besides. we'll see what happens.
i'm just waiting for her to leave, so i can enjoy the whole "spiraling death"
situation that has been happening with my moods.
she told me she was in love with me last night - - she doesn't even know me.
i'm gentle and i'm sad, i hold her and listen to her stories, her worries,
everything else. is this what people want? is this all it takes?.. all i've
got to do is keep my mouth shut, i guess, let them have the little fantasy
that they concoct for themselves. reality ruins everything.
jill called a few days after the vomit fiasco - i wasn't around to answer. i
guess she cares about me in some way, but i don't really know why. she's never
understood, i don't think she ever will. we're too caustic, anyway..
hmm.
you are..? chet is..? work is..? things are..? etc. etc. etc.
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got to get these thoughts down
so that maybe
just maybe
i can put them to rest
nights spent
in dreamlessness
remorse
longing for jill
longing for anyone
it's not even her
is it?
i don't know
so alone
so alone
just want to be held
just that tiny contact
a bit
of humanity
anything
contemplating shots before bedtime
to clear my mind
let me rest in peace
maybe?
no
i'm not that lucky
so cold
so hungry
starving for touch
god
fractions of a second
anything
anything
anything i can get
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save me from this hell
the day to day
the grind
the fucking steel mill drama
the quest for fire
the wheels
the smoke
the haze
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i know what it's all about, baby
i figured it all out
it's all about
falling into love
or falling into death
take your pick
they both go to the same place
in the end
in the end
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so, heather is gone. just as well, i was starting to notice she was a little
girl..
beth (an old girlfriend) came over last night for some casual sex. it was
tolerable, but i have to look back and ask myself, "why'd i do that?" i was
relieved when she left.
two mechanical geniuses are trying to fix the brakes on my car. they've been
trying for three or four days now. $200 in parts later, and it's about the
same as it was before this all began. i just wish i could go out for food -
i'm starving.
teli and i went out with boltcutters to his college again, and acquired
another $2000 worth of computer equipment. cutting the security cable was a
bitch, let me tell you. but for the trouble, i get a new printer, and a few
other odds and ends. yay. maybe i'll see some money when we sell off the
parts.
jim's found a house, the rent is dirt cheap. too bad we can't move in until
the middle of october..
hurry up and fix my car, damn it.
i'm bored and lonely, but it's mostly just boredom. i'm not even really
depressed yet. we'll see how long this lasts..
mmm.
not much more to say, really.
i'm just sitting around, waiting for checks to come in the mail. i keep
telling myself, "i need to get a job," but that's about as far as i get with
the idea. i haven't looked at the "help wanted" ads in eight months..
teli keeps trying to shove college on me, which i suppose is a good thing. i'm
unfortunately very stubborn and unenthused with the idea, so the conversations
never really get anywhere. i know what's going to happen: i'm going to be head
fry-cook. a college degree isn't going to change that. i haven't got enough
patience or determination to endure everything needed to get a degree, anyway.
and this is besides the fact that i'm completely uninterested in.. well.. most
everything.
well, whatever: i'm more than prepared to lie about education. i just can't
figure out what kind of a degree i should give myself. something in computer
science? maybe literature? decisions, decisions.
bored bored bored.
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